


Oh, the Devil and I

by Enk



Series: (Please) Be My Shelter [1]
Category: Marvel (Movies), The Avengers (2012)
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Angst, Blow Jobs, Bromance, Dreams, Epic Friendship, F/M, First Kiss, FrostIron - Freeform, Frottage, Gen, Gore, Hand Jobs, M/M, Masturbation, Post-Avengers, References to Character Death, References to Norse Mythology, Slow Build, Torture, UST, Violence, self-harm in the form of alcohol abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-05
Updated: 2012-12-15
Packaged: 2017-11-13 15:54:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 10
Words: 34,683
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/505208
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Enk/pseuds/Enk
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stark Tower: a beacon in clean energy research and development, home to billionaire Tony Stark and his Iron Man, future Avengers Headquarters, high security prison for criminally insane gods of mischief</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Arrival

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to my fabulous beta finarfiniel as well as my lovely cheerleaders hesreallydivine, littlebitofthat, and seanchaidh for being amazing as always :D Without your support, this probably wouldn't be happening
> 
> Both summary and tags will be expanded upon with each chapter :)

**Arrival**

 

It's a quiet afternoon. Bruce is working on some kind of experiment (gamma ray free, of course) on the R&D floors and Tony hasn’t seen him since the night before. The April weather today is mild enough to keep the glass walls to the balcony open.  Tony can smell spring on the gentle breeze as he's stretched out on the chaise longue, working on a design for a miniature arc reactor casing. His day is scheduled around relaxing. He closes his eyes, feeling himself drift off for a nap. Lazy days require naps.  
  
He doesn't expect Jarvis to tell him his security protocols are being overwritten the moment the elevator door opens and a half dozen S.H.I.E.L.D. Agents pour out into his living room, followed by Nick Fury, Thor, and... Loki? Bound, gagged, and blindfolded, Tony still can recognize that face anywhere. It's haunted his worst nightmares since...  
  
“What the actual fuck?” He gets up and puts the tablet down onto the Superleggera and Lazerian coffee table he’d acquired not too long ago.  
  
“I know you'll have questions, Mr. Stark. There is a debriefing package which, don't worry, I'll put it on the table.”  
  
The men together with Thor begin to busy themselves with the living room, moving things. When Tony hears a drill he cringes, but doesn't turn around to look. He can keep his cool if he just doesn't see the damage being done to his home, or Loki's form in the shadows flanked by two agents. If he doesn't see it, maybe he can ignore it a little while longer. Maybe long enough for Fury to actually give him an explanation.  
  
“Questions? Why would you think I have questions?” He feels his face twitch. Maybe not. “Why would I possibly have questions when you march into my home, my sanctuary, and start redecorating? Don't get me started on the war criminal currently standing on my 17th Century Persian rug. With dirty boots.”  
  
Nick starts talking about a new mission, about the Avengers needing to work together, general mission bullshit that Tony doesn't buy because last time he saw Loki, he'd been carted off to Asgard by his brother over a year ago.  To face justice. In Asgard. To be kept away from Earth. In Asgard.  
  
“I need your help,” Thor interrupts the argument. He looks pained. Worried. Afraid. Thor never looks like that.  
  
“My help?” It's harder to have a sarcastic retort when Thor looks like that. Thor, insane megalomaniac genocidal brother aside, isn't just a – for lack of a better word- co-worker; he's a friend. “Why do you need my help?” It's no longer about Fury and S.H.I.E.L.D; it's about a friend needing a friend.  
  
“My brother.” Thor glances over to Loki who is still chained and bound and confined in any way possible, surrounded by agents with very, very large guns.  “He is no longer safe in Asgard.”  
  
Tony coughs. Would-be-genocidal-maniac and the word 'safe' is not what he thought he would be hearing in the same conversation today.  
  
“I have returned him to Earth, to keep him safe here, and the safest place I know, is your tower Tony Stark.” Thor smiles like something good is happening.  
  
“Wait,” Tony needs more processing time, “your brother, who if you don't recall destroyed a good part of the island of Manhattan, is no longer safe in Asgard. Thor, I can't begin to imagine what is going through your head right now. He killed people. For fun. To get our attention. He possessed Clint and your friend Selvig, and let's be realistic here, he wouldn't have stopped there. What could you possibly say to make me agree to this?”  
  
“I know the things he did. I was there. With you. But things have changed and I-”  
  
“He murdered Phil!” Tony shouts before he can control himself. “He murdered Phil in cold fucking blood. Tell me again what you could possibly say that will make me agree, because I won't.”  
  
“Something is coming.” Nick stands beside Tony. “Something so bad we don't even have a name for it. Loki, it turns out, isn't the Big Bad Wolf we thought him to be. He's just a harbinger, a wild dog. The wolf is yet to come, looking for him, and we're not ready.”  
  
“So we lead the wolf straight to us? Put up a beacon? Maybe strap him to the dashboard of the ISS?”  
  
“He won't look for Loki here, the very place he failed.” Thor looks out the window and for a moment, Tony is sure he can see doubt in his eyes. “He knows I have taken him back to Asgard.” Thor breathes for a moment. “And no one knows I have brought him back.”  
  
“Not only is there a mysterious 'He', now you're telling me half of Asgard is going to be running around the universe trying to find him?” Tony wants a strong drink, an aspirin, and a nap.  
  
“None from Asgard will come looking for him, I promise you this.” Thor closes his eyes. “For they think… I have killed my brother.”  
  
Tony doesn't say anything else. What can he? If Thor faked his brother's death to smuggle him back to Earth, if Star- Avengers Tower is the safest place in the universe to keep megalomaniac Psycho Elf from attracting Big Bad Wolf, if this is how his day off is going to go... Tony walks to the bar and pours himself a drink.  
  
“It's two in the afternoon,” Nick shakes his head, but takes the drink Tony offers him while Thor busies himself with the construction crew from hell.  
  
“We're in deep fucking shit, aren't we.”  
  
“Yep.” Nick takes a drink.  
  
“So what's the plan?”  
  
“Hunker down in the basement and hope to god the tornado doesn't hit our house and blows us all the way to Oz.”  
  
“You know, instead of demolishing my penthouse, you could have at least put him a few floors down.”  
  
He walks away. He doesn’t want to talk about the destruction of Pepper’s former room. He doesn’t want to remember the darkness or the screams every time he closes his eyes. Doesn’t want to feel the rage, despair, and misery barely contained by the sweet lull of alcohol. Doesn’t want the memory of that one moment, that singular moment that destroyed everything.  
  
Nothing is fine. Nothing ever will be fine.  
  
Not anymore.  
  
He downs his drink.  
  
And then another.  
  
It takes nearly the rest of the day as they install this ‘cell’ Loki is going to be confined in for however long time Thor and SHIELD decide him to be. Tony isn't sold on something built so hastily to truly confine the fucking God of Lies. Okay, fine, whatever, if he gets killed by Thor's adoptive brat, it'll be all on them anyways. It’s not like he cares too much these days. After an hour of godawful noise, he retreats to the labs and hey, he realizes he`s not going to die after all. He has a Hulk. That`s why they put him here.  
  
"Hey Tony," Bruce looks up from one of his experiments, "can you pass me the coil spanner?"  
  
"Sure thing, babe." He tosses it at Bruce and sits down in his chair. He's not brooding. Bruce lets him get away with it for exactly three minutes forty-nine seconds.  
  
"What's wrong?" The man sighs and puts the coil spanner on the lab bench.  
  
"Did you know about this?"  
  
"You already know I did." Bruce sits down beside him. "And I can tell you are pissed off because I didn't tell you."  
  
"No shit."  
  
"Wasn't my idea, remember that. However, all things considered, I'm the only guy they can trust to kick Bag of Cats down when he decides to get up."  
  
"Fury says he's subdued."  
  
"He also let himself be captured before you got a second blast off. Thor took one of those to the face and barely shrugged. This guy, always up to something. Only, if he tries anything, I'll make sure the other guy gives him a proper welcome."  
  
"Can you do it now?"  
  
"I am not entertaining you because you're bored and angry and halfway to drunk." He hands Tony a clip board. "You can make yourself useful though."  
  
"Have I told you I love you?"  
  
"Still not sleeping with you." Bruce winks.  
  
"Worth a try though."  
  
They work through the night. Bruce lets Tony take shots, though toward the end Tony highly suspects that he's being handed water, not vodka. Sometime around the four o'clock in the morning mark, Tony falls face first onto the cot they erected months ago. He vaguely remembers Bruce rubbing his back and putting a blanket over him. The last thing he manages to think is: why is my pillow wet?

 

 

_***_

  
_Storm clouds brew in the distance of what had promised to be a beautiful, perfect spring day just a few hours ago. Tony frowns and turns to look at Pepper who smiles at him from a checkered blanket on the grass of the Stark Tower rooftop garden._   
  
_“Storms coming. Maybe we should go back inside.”_   
  
_“Oh no.” Pepper smiles and laughs. “You promised.”_   
  
_“You sure? Cause we can go back inside. No big deal. I got champagne on ice.”_   
  
_“Sit.” She pats the blanket as the storm draws closer. Faster now, the sky begins to churn as the clouds roll in and darken the sky.  Thunder rolls in the distance and Tony knows there isn't much time. But Pepper, oh dear Pepper, she smiles at him and reaches out her hand._   
  
_"Come on, Tony. Join me."_   
  
_It's as though she can't see the storm has nearly reached them. As though she is blissfully ignorant to the swell of thunder as lightning begins to strike around them. The sky turns slate and green and black. Clouds churning and swirling above their heads. The storm has come._   
  
_"Pepper!" Tony can hear the panic in his voice. "We really need to go inside." But she just takes a sip from the mimosa she is now holding and picks up a strawberry, bites it slow, sensual and looks up at him. "Please Pepper!" Tony's voice cracks as he tries to shout over the thunder._   
  
_Wind has picked up and he can feel grains of sand and debris graze his skin. They have to go inside where it is safe. They have to go now. He takes a step toward her, to take her hand, to pull her with him, to drag her to fucking safety by her hair if he has to. Said hair blows in the wind and she leans into the storm like it's a summer breeze. He reaches for her hand. Their fingertips graze, the touch electrifies, gives Tony hope that he can save them both. He leans further to grab her wrist. He can smell the ozone as lightning tears into the garden between them. The thunder follows immediately, shaking the Earth, Stark Tower, until cracks appear between him and Pepper._   
  
_"Pepper! God! Take my hand!" Pepper doesn't look at him any more. She sits on the blanket as the building collapses around her, just staring out into the world. He tries to get to her. Screams for Jarvis to deploy his suit. Screams for Pepper to hold on to something, to anything. He defies the abyss that is beginning to form but just as he reaches her, the ground gives way and she falls into the nothing that now lies beneath, waiting to swallow her. Tony knows he's screaming, trying to throw himself after her, but he is frozen to the ground, paralysed by nothing and everything. He's not even sure he can breathe._   
  
_He watches the building collapse as explosion after explosion is set off. He is trapped in his suit, unable to move, unable to do anything but watch. He hears Pepper's scream and he feels his heart break and shatter and fall after her into the abyss, the vortex, the nothing. He is numb. Broken. Dead._

 

 

***

  
  
The noise in the morning is unbearable. It screeches in his ears, tears at his ear drums and pounds deep into his brain. He throws his arm over his head in hopes to silence the noise but to no avail. It continues, pounding into his head in regular intervals of precisely one second. Fuck, it's the clock ticking on the wall. He groans and doesn't even want to know what will happen if he opens his eyes. How much did he drink last night? Not enough to erase the memory of the nightmare.  
  
"I thought that might happen." The smell of coffee is too sudden, too strong. Tony barely manages to roll to the side and throw up over the edge of the cot. Bruce is right there, hand on Tony's back, if Tony had long hair, he'd probably be fucking holding it. He doesn't even say anything. Doesn’t mention that Tony probably spent the night screaming on his cot. Just lets Tony retch for a while and when he's finally done, Bruce helps him sit up and pours some solidification powder over the puddle of vomit by his feet.  
  
"Urgh." He finally manages. He wants to sleep for a week. Hair of the dog. Overdose on aspirin. Anything to make him stop feeling like this.  
  
"No more moonshine for you, sister." Bruce hands him water. Water could be all right. Tony takes a tentative sip and then downs the whole thing. So. Thirsty. Three glasses later, he thinks he may be able to survive.  
  
"What happened?"  
  
"You emptied your liquor cabinet into your gullet and decided you're too stubborn to die of alcohol poisoning." He's deadpan. Means he's joking. Laughing hurts. "Though being honest, I switched the vodka with water near the end."  
  
"Paying for it now, aren't I?"  
  
"Oh, I think you are getting off rather easily. Now sit." Bruce puts a day-glo green shake in his hand. "Drink this. You'll feel better."  
  
"I don't think I would, but I will drink it because I threw up in your lab."  
  
"Dummy is going to clean it, you're fine." Bruce sits back down beside him. "We're fine. Not okay, not good, but we're fine. Alive."  
  
"With a megalomaniac psychopath locked up in my office."  
  
"So now there are two of you," Bruce smiles, "nothing I can't handle."  
  
"You say that," Tony looks up, "but you deny me every time."  
  
"It's been working well for me." He pats Tony's back. "Come on, let's see if there's a brief from Fury."  
They make it back upstairs. It's a slow drag to the elevator, but they finally make it back to the living room.  
  
"Good morning, gentlemen." Natasha is sitting on Tony's couch flanked by Agent Maria Hill and Steve. "Glad you could make it to the end of the briefing."  
  
The screen in front of them shows a displeased looking Nick. He's not happy and Tony couldn't care less. In fact, screw the briefing; he's going to mix some hair of the dog.

 


	2. The Beast Below

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stark Tower: a beacon in clean energy research and development, home to billionaire Tony Stark and his Iron Man, also temporary home of brilliant physicist Dr. Bruce Banner, future Avengers Headquarters, high security ~~prison~~ torture chamber for criminally insane gods of mischief...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title was supposed to have been a reference to the devil/satan, but it also is the title of a Doctor Who episode.

_Tony finds himself standing in a great ballroom,  a charity ball or gala or something-rather someone in Stark Industries must have arranged. It’s all classical music and people dressed in modest gowns and tuxedos.  There is someone speaking to a small audience. Waitresses in little black cocktail dresses are serving exotic bite-sized food and flutes of champagne on large crystal trays. It’s the opposite of the kind of party Tony enjoys, well aside from the food and the champagne._  
  
 _He looks down and sure enough, he’s wearing faded jeans and a just as faded AC/DC tour shirt. He looks surprised when he realizes his feet are bare and he can feel the cold marble floor on his skin. He runs his hand over his face, doesn’t feel drunk or drugged. His vision is fine, head is clear. Why the bare feet? There is a sign above the stage, but every time Tony tries to read it, the letters blur and rearrange._  
  
 _Shit._  
  
 _He doesn’t want to be dreaming. Dreams are bad. And if he’s crashing a party like this, he wants there to at least be headlines at the end of the day. He looks away from the sign to find Pepper’s face in the crowd and when he does, he has a nagging feeling he’s forgotten something. Shrugging it off, he moves along the crowd until-_  
  
 _“What are you doing here?” He turns to see Pepper’s face, Pepper’s unimpressed face. So he smiles._  
  
 _“Can’t crash my own party. This is my party, isn’t it?” He slides an arm around her waist and pulls her close. She’s perfection in an off-white gown with a beautiful drape and a plunging back. Her hair is piled on top of her head though a few strands have escaped their confinement and frame her face perfectly. She is smart and beautiful and perfect and her heart belongs to him. He runs his fingers over the exposed skin._  
  
 _“Yes, but you promised you wouldn’t show.” She’s not happy yet but leans ever so slightly into his touch._  
  
 _“I know, but I really needed to see you.” He knows he’s giving her the Tony Stark equivalent of puppy dog eyes and the corner of her mouth quirks. “And I am glad I did. You look fantastic. Positively an eleven out of ten.”_  
  
 _“All right, you’ve seen me, now go home and let me handle this.” She presses a quick kiss to his lips._  
  
 _“Did I say eleven?” He mock-frowns at her. “I meant maybe an eight... and a half.”_  
  
 _“Incorrigible.” She kisses him, soft, tender, perfect. “Now go!” She pushes him toward the door. He knows he’ll be waiting up for her with champagne and tiny chocolatines he’ll have brought from France, or Quebec, he’ll see how much time he has. She will raise her eyebrow at him and they will have amazing sex. He smiles to himself when he feels the ground beneath him shake a bit._  
  
 _“Pepper?” He turns around to look for her. She is standing with an older gentleman, talking and picking a chocolate covered strawberry from a tray one of the cocktail-dressed waitresses holds out. Something isn’t right. “Hey Pep!” He calls out but she ignores him. He runs a hand through his hair and walks toward her when he feels the tremor under his feet again._  
  
 _The chandelier above him is swinging slowly back and forth. He isn’t imagining it but everyone else seems to ignore the fact that the ground started shaking, with greater intensity this time. He braces himself through the tremor and when he looks around again, everyone else has disappeared. Pepper stands alone in the middle of the hall, quietly eating the strawberry with her eyes closed. This is wrong, but Tony can’t remember why or how he knows._  
  
 _Before he is able to call out to her, before he can say anything, the whole room groans and shifts suddenly as another, this time violent tremor begins to tear it apart. Tony wants to call out to her, but he finds his mouth dry. He wants to run to her, but he is frozen, can’t move like he’s pinned. The room suddenly shifts and Tony feels like he is laying on his side but he can’t quite get his bearings. All he can do is watch as the ground opens up around Pepper and she is swallowed into a dark abyss._  
  
Tony wakes with a scream. It takes him a few moments of heavy breathing and looking around frantically to realize where he is - on the couch, covered with a scratchy throw, and in yesterday’s clothes.  
  
“Shit.” He runs a hand over his face and realizes he’s bathed in sweat. Fantastic. Great start to another day. Walking over to the bar in bare feet is second nature to him now. Wake up, morning bourbon, make breakfast, check out R &D, brunch time whiskey, take-out lunch, be Iron Man as required. It was a good routine. He pours some Angel’s Envy* into his favourite mug and takes a sip, takes off the edge, just long enough until he sees Maria emerge from the corridors.  
  
"Good morning, Agent Hill, always a pleasant surprise seeing you creep around my house without actually having let you in." Tony raises his mug at Maria who barely refrains from rolling her eyes.  
  
"You have been briefed on my presence, I am here to-"  
  
"Check on the prisoner, yeah yeah yeah, but it's been over a week and I only ever see you coming or going. Sit down, make yourself at home, have a cup of whatever you S.H.I.E.L.D agents drink." He leans against the wall. "Why can't I get into my office?" He can't not for lack of trying. Jarvis had pointed out a couple of days after the erection of the cell that he was completely locked out of the system.  
  
"What do you mean?" She feigns disinterest but Tony can smell the surprise on her.  
  
"I mean that you've locked the big bad psycho up in my tower and I can't even get in to check up on him."  
  
"Access is classified. Level 7 clearance only."  
  
"I'm Iron Man."  
  
"Iron Man has Level 5." She raises an eyebrow at him.  
  
"So what if something were to happen inside the cell." He takes a drink from his cup.  
  
"Nothing will happen. He is immobile and neutralized as a threat."  
  
"Say something does." Putting up with other S.H.I.E.L.D agents makes him miss Phil. Phil enjoyed the banter.  
  
"You do have Dr. Banner to protect you in the unlikely event of containment breech."  
  
He narrows his eyes at her and takes a few strides into his living room where he pours a shot of coffee into his bourbon. He can hear Maria lock up the door and pours her a drink.  
  
"Stay?" He smiles sheepish.  
  
"Sir, it is not yet ten in the morning." She declines. She always declines, but it delays her ever so slightly. And Tony can at least take pleasure in that. "I will see you again tomorrow."  
  
"Yep." Tony raises his cup and takes a drink. "Bright and early. Break into my place, check on the prisoner, decline Tony's gracious offer of leisure, return to Headquarters to debrief with Fury. Like clockwork."  
  
"Have a good day, Mr. Stark." She can't help the small smile that cracks through the surface. Tony nods at her, masking the internal triumph, and takes another drink.  
  
As soon as she disappears inside the elevator, Tony rushes back to the door to what used to be his spare bedroom and busies himself with the lock.  
  
"Jarvis, did you get the code?" He attaches a diagnostics tool. The lock was rough, triple fortified, extra firewalls,, harder than the mainframe of the helicarrier that's for sure, but nothing they can't handle. He's certain of that.  
  
"Agent Hill was not so forthcoming with the codes. However, despite the keypad, there is no actual external input."  
  
"Yeah, I see that now. Can you try a few sets of strings to get through the firewall?"  
  
"Already on it, Sir."  
  
"Great, I am going to run a-"  
  
"What are you up to now?" Bruce leans against the wall beside Tony.  
  
"Nothing."  
  
"Oh good, because for a moment it looked like you're trying to break into the cell containing a dangerous war criminal."  
  
"They don't let me inside. In my own house, I can't go in there?" He stands up and looks at Bruce. "S.H.I.E.L.D has a notorious track record when it comes to not sharing information. Last time, it was weapons, who knows what it is now."  
  
"They're weaponizing Loki?" Bruce chuckles.  
  
"Would you put it past them?" Tony is serious. He trusts S.H.I.E.L.D about as much as he trusts Loki. "I mean really put it past them?"  
  
For a moment, he thinks Bruce is just going to shake his head. He expects him to settle and listen to see what Tony has to say. He doesn't expect the flash of green, brief roar, and the Hulk handing him the lock to the door with a huff and a nod for him to go inside.  
  
"O...kay. Didn't expect that." He smiles. "You're as crazy as I am, Doctor Green Rage Monster. Never try telling me otherwise." He pats the Hulk's arm before stepping through the door. "He makes a move, you smash him, preferably not into the marble. Can you do that?"  
  
He gets what he files away as an eyeroll and takes another step fully through the door. He lets out a shaking breath. The cell, room, shipping container for all looks and purposes, is cold enough he can see his breath. It is incredibly dry and when he licks his lips, he can feel them crack almost immediately.  
  
“What the hell is this?” He whispers to himself. There is plastic sheeting hung like curtains and behind it he can see Loki’s shape oddly arranged. He pulls the plastic to the side and takes a moment to adjust his eyes to the dimmer light here.  
  
The moment he can make out Loki, he wishes he hadn’t.  Loki is strung up, arms shackled to the elbow and chained to the ceiling. Their soft glow tells of an enchantment. His legs are spread with bars, ankles shackled and chains plated into the ground. There is a cage around his naked torso, clamped tight enough to have left bruises. His mouth is covered with the device Thor had put on him over a year ago and a similar device covers his eyes. Tony notes the collar around the neck and how it is tilted back and held in place with bars.  
  
Mesmerized by the gentle swirls of light, he reaches out his hand to touch the chains. He wonders briefly if they will feel hot or cold before he is thrown across the room and into the wall and lies there convulsing for a moment.  
  
“Metal man?” Hulk enters through the door and shrinks back to Bruce when he sees Tony on the floor and Loki still chained.“What the hell happened?”  
  
“Ngh,” Tony runs a hand over his face, grateful that, thanks to nanofibre pants he’s invented for Bruce, he doesn’t have a faceful of cock and balls when Bruce crouches beside him. “Electric fence on steroids.” He sits up and looks at Loki and the contraptions around him. Only now does he notice the trickle of blood down Loki’s face; the contusions that look too close to the surface; and the constant tension in the body.  
  
“This isn’t imprisonment.” Bruce shakes his head. “This is torture.”  
  
“What the hell is Fury thinking?!” Tony can’t quite describe the rage he feels. “I’m not running Guantanamo Bay inside my house. Bruce, get me the diagnostics kit.”  
  
“Are you sure you wanna do that? It’s still Loki, remember, bag of cats? Nearly flattened New York and the rest of the world?”  
  
“We don’t torture people into submission. Maybe Fury does. This is my house, and we don’t. If he wants to do this, he moves Loki somewhere else.”  
  
“But he won’t because the Arc Reactor is the only source of energy on the planet that can power this contraption. And it is housed where The Other Guy happens to live.”  
  
“Nice job on the lock by the way,” Tony nods, “pretty impressive.”  
  
“So, what’s the plan? We call Fury and tell him the deal is off?”  
  
He runs his hand through his hair. It’s a tough call. It’s Loki, the monster that still haunted his dreams. Are they not just like him now? Are they any different from Loki now? This is means to an end and wasn't this how Loki operated? Means to an end with no regard to the cost? Here, the cost isn't a city, or people, it is their humanity. Their ability to rise beyond evil, to be better than evil. This wasn't better than evil. This was torturing prisoners. This was 'no matter what the cost' like S.H.I.E.L.D had become. He remembers when Fury had asked Thor what he was prepared to do. Means to an end. Torture. Marching to Fury's fife. Fuck, he didn't do it then, he's not going to do it now.  
  
"I want to know what the fuck this is. What the hell they're doing to him." He inspects a console hidden away in a corner. Bruce doesn't follow, and somehow, Tony's resolve falters a bit.  
  
"Look, Tony," Bruce looks at him, "we may be opening Pandora's Box if we do this, but if we don't-"  
  
Tony runs his hand over his face. "If we don't, we might as well start setting up an enhanced interrogation techniques floor downstairs. I know. Is this what he deserves?"  
  
"Some might argue he does."  
  
"What do you think?"  
  
"You already made your decision, Tony. Don't use me to validate it." Bruce simply says and leaves the room.  
  
"You," Tony points at Loki, "you are one hell of a pain in my ass, you know that?" He'd not sure Loki can even hear him, but when through the humming, he can make out a noise, his eye twitches. "Fuck, seriously? Even all packaged and electrocuted, you are fucking trouble. So what if I just leave you here? Your brother set this place up, so it's not like he cares. If this keeps you from causing more mayhem, why shouldn't I leave you like this?" Tony already questions whether or not this is what Thor had in mind when he set up the cell.  
  
"Because you still hang on to your humanity." Bruce returns with the scanning device. "And you hate Fury's guts every time he keeps something from you. Now, do you want to get on with it or do you want to muse in here for a while longer. It's fucking cold, because if you are, I'll be waiting outside for your verdict."  
  
Tony smiles. This is a wonderful 'fuck you' to Nick Fury. It's not like they have anything to lose figuring out what the hell he was up to in here.  
  
"Let's do it then." He attaches the scanning device to the control panel. "Jarvis, get me inside and transfer controls to the mainframe and the penthouse unit."  
  
"It will take a few minutes to transfer control. Please stand by."  
  
"You stay here, big guy, I'll take a look."  
  
The security measures inside the unit are standard S.H.I.E.L.D and Tony laughs silently at the idea of what would happen should Loki ever manage to escape his confines. It takes Jarvis very little time to break into the system, make himself at home, and transfer functionality protocols to the mainframe. There is an elegance in how he does it, and when Tony projects the control system into the living room, Jarvis closes the curtains for optimal viewing parameters. Perfection.  
  
"Alright, now tell me, what are you doing Fury?"  
  
Nick is doing a lot, it appears. Enough to make Tony feel a little sick. Magical chains (okay not magical, but Tony doesn't even want to start understanding that kind of science on an empty stomach), check. Electrical current powerful enough to kill a rhinoceros, check It appears Tony was lucky to not have had full contact with the chains. Temperature at a balmy one degree Celsius, check. He feels sick when he he realizes the spreader bars and shackles are embedded in Loki's arms and legs with spikes deep enough to touch bone.  
  
"Jesus." Bruce hisses when he joins Tony.  
  
"Yeah." Tony couldn't fathom this being done to another human, no matter what their crimes. "Jarvis, can you cut the power?"  
  
"To neutralize the electric current, yes. The chains appear to have some kind of self-sustaining power source similar to-"  
  
"The Tesseract." First weapons, now torture devices.  
  
"Indeed, sir."  
  
"Okay, cut the power, I don't particularly feel like being crispy fried today." When he can hear the power shut down. He transfers the projection files to his tablet and returns to the cell, torture room. It's already warmer and he looks at Loki who is now slumped into the chains, the constant tensions in his muscles gone. Bruce carefully approaches him, nods for Tony to stand back just in case.  
  
"I don't know if you can hear me, but I'm trying to help. So, try not to escape and piss off the Other Guy, okay?" Bruce carefully moves to touch the blindfold-brace hybrid thing covering Loki's eyes. It's then that Tony realizes that Bruce was going to help the moment he knew Loki was being tortured. Doctor. Helping people. That's his thing.  
  
Bruce manages to not get shocked or crispy fried and even avoids the Other Guy when he finds the spot that releases the lock mechanism. He takes it off and suddenly drops it to the floor, frozen in his movement.  
  
"Hey what's- shit." Tony doesn't know how to react. What's the protocol here? Disgusted vomiting, complimenting Fury on reaching new levels of twisted fucked up-ness? Maybe he's in shock. How else would he be able to open his mouth and calmly speak to Jarvis. "I- I need a lights up 20%, Jarvis. Now."  
  
“Tony, get my medkit.” Loki stirs when Bruce begins to examine the cauterized mass where his eyelids used to be.  
  
“I wasn’t sure which to bri- are you okay?” Tony rushes to Bruce who is holding his hand with a grimace.  
  
“Acid. There’s acid in the blindfold.” He takes the medkit from Tony with the other hand and treats the chemical burn on his fingertips.  
  
"What do you mean acid?" Tony picks up the blindfold, carefully, and Jarvis very much confirms a dangerously corrosive substance.  "Jesus christ, Fury," he runs a hand over his face.  
  
"I'm trying to see how-" Bruce turns to examine the wounds again when pieces of scar tissue just fall away. "He's healing himself."  
  
Tony takes a step back when Loki's eyes open in a flash of green and fix on him for but a moment. Then they dart across the room, as if he'd only just woken up, disoriented, confused. The muscles in his body slowly contract, but when he cannot move, there is something else in his eyes. Everything changes in his movements now, the tension in his muscles, the desperation to move, Tony can almost feel the strength he must be summoning, but the chains and bars and spikes hold true and keep Loki in place.  
  
For a moment, nothing happens but when his eyes fall on Bruce, he struggles in earnest despite the spikes digging deeper into his body.  The metal creaks but doesn’t give way, but blood begins to flow from the wounds. Huh, even gods bleed. Tony’s seen the wounds on Loki after Hulk had been done with him, but seeing blood flow is something entirely different. It almost levels the playing field somehow.  
  
“Let’s give him some time,” Tony glances at Loki, “I need to have a conversation with S.H.I.E.L.D.”  
  
They leave Loki in his confinement, and when they return to the living Nick is standing in front of Tony’s bar, flanked by Maria, Natasha, Clint, and Steve. None of them look impressed.  
  
“What the hell were you two thinking?!”   
 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Angel's Envy is a bourbon whiskey. For those of legal drinking age, you can check it out here: http://www.angelsenvy.com/?/home


	3. Children of Disobedience

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stark Tower: a beacon in clean energy research and development, home to billionaire Tony Stark and his Iron Man,also ~~temporary~~ home of brilliant physicist Dr. Bruce Banner, ~~future~~ new Avengers Headquarters, high security ~~prison~~ ~~torture chamber~~ humane prison for criminally insane gods of mischief...

Ah, yes, Nick Fury’s tirade lasts exactly seven minutes longer than Tony had figured it would. He probably should not have attempted to get a word in edgewise. Nick doesn’t appear to take kindly to interruptions today. So, Tony lets him have his yelling and ‘what the hell were you thinking’ and mostly, he just tunes Nick out, heads to the bar and fixes himself a proper drink. He’s done with coffee for today, well right now. He’s also done listening to Nick today, so he turns around, smiles, takes a drink and tilts his head.  
  
“Where is Thor?”  
  
“What?” Nick looks at him, confused.  
  
“What I want to know is- because frankly, that tirade got old fast- where is Thor?” Tony takes a sip of his drink. “Because I think he agreed to something a little different than what we encountered. I mean, I told our princely visitor that his brother abandoned him in those chains, but let’s face it, Thor’s not that kind of a guy.” He empties it. “This isn’t fucking Guantanamo Bay, Nick! We aren’t running a torture chamber under my roof. There is nothing you can say, nothing you can do to convince me I am going to take part in this.”  
  
"Is what he says true?" Steve looks at Nick. He has been quiet for most of the argument, almost withdrawn, but Tony isn’t surprised when he speaks up. The man’s a living, breathing reminder of upstanding good.   "You've got Loki chained up in some kind of torture chamber?"  
  
"It's not exactly torture. He's an Asgardian. This is what it takes to subdue-"  
  
"Look, I'm not one to agree with Stark on most things, but when I'm from, this was the kind of thing that started a very long road to very bad things."  
  
"He's got a point." Natasha looks at Clint.  
  
"I'm not going to agree with that." Clint looks at Natasha. "You can't make me." Tony wonders if they make out in supply closets.  
  
Nick runs a hand over his face. "To answer your question, Stark: we don’t know where Thor is. Any attempts to communicate have been unsuccessful." He sighs and pours himself a drink from Tony's bar. "What do you want me to do, Rogers? Turn this into Camp Cupcake?" Steve looks blank until Natasha whispers in his ear, then he just looks appalled.   
  
"Of course not, and you don't want that, it's awful. I keep that around for government types." Tony dumps Nick's drink and pours him a new one, special batch. "That should do it. And no, we're not going to turn this into a day spa for felons and psychopathic war criminals. He'll be a prisoner, a very well-guarded prisoner, until Thor gets back. We will treat him humanely and just maybe, he might talk and tell us what the hell we are up against. Or not, that’s really up to him, but we are not starting a Concentration Camp under my roof."  
  
"And what exactly do you plan on doing when he tries to escape, and he will."  
  
Before Tony can give Nick an answer there is a deafening roar from beside him and the floor beneath him shakes for a moment when Hulk backhands a pillar (thankfully not part of the support structure) and pieces of the ceiling come crumbling down.  
  
"HULK SMASH!"  
  
"Well," Tony claps his hands together, "there you have it. Hulk smash." He throws a smirk at Nick. "We've got this."  
  
"Oh you do 'got this' because you just volunteered to babysit the prisoner. All of you. You want this to be a team effort? Fine by me. Then these are your new headquarters and all of you are going to stay right here making sure that our 'guest' doesn't cause any trouble because Stark here is over developing his newly found conscience. Hope you've got your guest rooms ready. Agent Hill is going to check up on you and I am going to go figure out a way to not tell the Council what the hell you kids are up to. This is going to bite us in the ass and I will be the first one to say 'I told you so' when we're all about to die.  Have yourselves a nice day gentlemen, Miss Romanov." He leaves shaking his head.  
  
"Wait," Clint looks around. "Were we just ordered to move in?"  
  
"That is not what just happened." Tony empties his drink for the third (or fourth?) time today. If this day kept going, he might feel a buzz before dinner. Can Fury even do that? Order the Avengers to do anything? He looks the round: Bruce doesn’t look too thrilled, Tony can tell by furrow in his brow; Natasha is all game face, so who knows, she might be thinking about Bonsai horticulture for all Tony knows; Clint looks downright excited, like there isn’t the guy who made him his bitch isn’t next door; and Steve, Steve has some sort of half-smirk bemused face going on.   
  
"I think it is." Steve claps Tony on the shoulder. "Roommate."  
  
Tony runs his hand over his face. He should be feeling a little more... elated, after all he did just win a battle of will with Nick Fury, super spy, or did he? He gained the right to keep Loki a prisoner without the torture devices. He also gained three new roommates. Tony Stark does not do roommates. He’s more than a decade too old and a few billions too rich. Bruce doesn’t count. He’s a scientific mastermind in need of research space, an outlet for his sheer genius. _Completely_ different.   
  
"I'm not going to deal with this right now." He turns to walk back to the bar but Bruce blocks his path.  Tony sighs and looks at him. "If I do can I get shitfaced after?" Bruce just shakes his head.  
  
"So, how's the room arrangement going to work? Do I get a room with a view?" Clint seems a little too excited. Not that Tony blames him, he has seen the places that S.H.I.E.L.D shacks its operatives up in: cramped, hideously outdated interior designs, and worst of all, no view.  
  
"All rooms in this penthouse have a view, thank you very much, this isn't a labour camp." Tony looks at Steve, Natasha, and Clint. He thinks he may have gone crazy, because he hears himself say: "Okay kids, go get your stuff."  
  
That's really all he has right now and he wanders off leaving Bruce to sort out the details with Jarvis. What Tony needs now is some downtime in the labs. Hardware, he thinks, but as he walks along the corridor, his eyes fall on the door behind which Loki is still captured. He should probably wait to remove that particular hardware until Bruce can join him, but then again Asgardians and Humans probably were different enough in physiology that it wouldn't matter anyways. There's a lure behind that door and Tony feels compelled, feels curious. He pushes it open carefully and slides into the cell.  
  
It's almost the same temperature as the rest of the penthouse now. That is good. When he pushes the plastic curtains aside, the minuscule twitch in Loki's shoulders tells him he's aware of his presence. Suddenly, any level the playing field had is gone. He moves with caution and part of him would feel safer in his suit, but he's here to assess the situation, create a bridge that leads away from torture and perhaps away from them all getting killed the moment Loki managed to get out of his confines. Tony's heart is pumping harder now. There it is again: fear. He tries to calm his breathing. Don't let him smell fear. Bruce is just a few paces away.  
  
"So hey," he stands beside the contraption Loki is trapped in, "guess what? You won a free upgrade to humanely treated prisoner courtesy of Stark Enterprises." Loki doesn't even open his eyes. "Really? Nothing? I thought it was pretty funny. Anyways, I'm going to try and get you out of this because unlike you, we're not horrible people."  
  
Loki opens his eyes, green and incredibly cold, and fixes his gaze upon Tony. He feels chills run down his spine, but he takes a deep, deep breath and thinks of how Bruce has his back as soon as he screams, providing he can scream. Fuck, this was going to end with him eating his own heart, wasn't it. Loki's eyes crinkle a bit. Was the fucker grinning behind that muzzle? Then, Tony notices the fresh blood trickling down Loki's chin.  
  
The trail of blood drips onto his chest and stains what little cloth Loki is wearing to protect his modesty. Modesty, hah! They might as well had him naked. It's not like there was any dignity or sense of humane treatment left here. The blood keeps dripping and Tony takes a closer look. Why was he bleeding so profusely? Had he stopped since they'd left him? What was inside that muzzle?  
  
"Hey okay, you're making a mess on my floor, so I'm going to take off this thing. Do try to keep your snark at a minimum, okay?" Tony puts on the protective gloves he had brought Bruce earlier when they were dealing with the acid filled blindfold. The muzzle shuts right below the spike embedded in Loki's neck and there  is no way Tony's fingers will fit to open it. "Alright, I need to get some tools for this. Don't go anywhere!"   
  
The look of disdain he earns is totally worth eating his own heart. When he gets a small tool kit from his room (you always have a spare tool kit everywhere you might end up, it's a Stark rule of life), he can hear Bruce still discussing room assignment strategies and logistics with Jarvis.  And Loki, well it turns out Loki had not moved and instead was watching Tony with curiosity as he laid out his tools on a rolling side table.  
  
"I have no idea what I'm doing, so this will probably hurt. I'd like to say I'm sorry but considering I am cutting you out of this miserable state, let's just not worry about apologies just yet." The metal alloy the spikes are made from are tough, but Tony's tech is tougher and eventually he severs the link between the spike and the skeleton of the contraption. "All right," he's not really talking to calm Loki down, he's psyching himself up to do this. Pulling metal spikes out of necks is not usually his forte. He's not even sure he's okay with the amounts of blood Loki seems to be losing now that his body isn't near frozen any more. "I'm going to count until three, one, two- oh god!" It takes some power but he pulls the spike out and it falls to the floor with a clang. For a moment, blood begins to pour and  Tony thinks briefly he should be more worried about explaining to Thor how he accidentally killed his brother. Then, he hears a soft sigh from Loki and the wound begins to close.  
  
He waits until it is completely healed. It takes a few minutes, all things considered, Loki is probably quite weak right now. Then, he moves Loki's hair out of the way and very carefully cuts open the metal closure of the gag with his laser scalpel. To his credit, the room only fills with the stench of burnt hair when he pulls apart the severed ends and removes the muzzle from Loki's mouth and drops it on the floor.  
  
"Jesus fucking christ." It's pity he feels in his chest right now. Definitely pity. Loki doesn’t look at him, doesn't speak. He can't. How could he? Thick wire-like thread has woven his lips together in a grotesque display. Tony feels sick to his stomach. Not just because of what he saw but because someone had to have done this to him. Someone who would have been able to subdue Loki long enough to stitch his mouth shut. Tony really doesn't want to keep pondering the horrors before him and instead reaches for a pair of small, long-nosed wire cutters.  
  
"Okay," he takes a breath and rummages through the medkit looking for anything numbing. He wishes he had a drink or not had any drinks at all because he's no longer sure how steady his hands are. He tries to figure out how to approach Loki, wishes he could sit, but at the angle Loki is held by the rest of the contraption, he would end up slicing his face open and that's not how he wants to get those stitches out. "Hold still."  
  
Slowly, he leans forward, not quite sure what to do with his other hand. He chooses to tilt Loki's head up slightly for better light and he exhales deeply. This is just like electrical wiring. Just like anything else mechanical he's ever done. Only, you know, there's blood and a genocidal maniac inches away from him. Somehow, he does manage to find his Zen and slides one blade of the wire cutters beneath the first stitch. He's feeling the nausea rise again when the wire pops apart with a 'ping', but he continues: slide, steady, clip; slide, steady, clip. He glances down at Loki, expects hatred, rage, smirk superiority, anything other than what he gets: resignation. Loki's eyes are glazed over and he's staring at nothing. Tony isn't sure what to do with that, so he moves on - slide, steady, clip- until he cuts the last of the stitches.  
  
"Almost there." He murmurs and begins to pull the bits of wire from Loki's lips. After each bit he pulls out, there is a small rush of blood before the skin closes and heals itself. Loki doesn't look at Tony, looks anywhere but at Tony, eyes still vacant, avoidant. He keeps pulling the wiry thread from Loki until he has removed them and all that is left of Loki's cruel stitching is the blood that is drying on his chin and the blood that is covering Tony's hands.   
  
"All done." He whispers and finally, Loki moves his head to look at him. He says nothing, but the look in his eyes is almost curious and there is something in the air that Tony can't quite put his fingers on. He grabs an alcohol soaked towelette and tears it from its packet with his teeth, licking the bitter sharp taste of pure alcohol from his lips as he wipes the blood off Loki's chin.  
  
"Everything all right in here?" Bruce looks in from behind the plastic sheet and the air changes. "Anyone need to be smashed into walls?"  
  
Tony chuckles and begins to wipe Loki's blood from his hands. "I think we're okay, but I need to wash my hands."  
  
"I can see that. You want me to take over here? Figure out how we can dismantle the rest of this?"  
  
"That'd be great yeah." He lets out a breath. He holds up his blood soaked hands and gestures at his drenched shirt. Really, he just needs to be away from the gore and the first few words Loki no doubt will speak. He’s had a long day and it’s just past lunch time. But.   
  
He pauses.  
  
“Hey... so, I’ve been meaning to ask...,” he looks at Bruce. “I’ve been not sleeping so well and-”  
  
“I’ll get you something.” Bruce smiles at him.   
  
“Just like that?”  
  
“Just like that.” There is something else in his smile now. “Now go take a shower, Carrie.” It’s gone. He doesn’t allow for protest, nor does he make Tony feel like they just had a moment, like Tony’s just asked for help. Just shoos him off as he busies himself with the rest of the contraption holding Loki.  
  
Tony does need a shower and he needs - his stomach growls - okay, food. He had planned to go with another drink, but he supposes food is a next best choice. Grains in liquid alcoholic form were not quite breakfast. So, he tells Bruce he's ordering food and that he has until Tony's finished his shower to tell him what he wants. He drags himself to his room, peeling his clothes off as he goes. The dry cleaner would shake his head at Happy tomorrow. And Tony knows Happy would just shrug and tip the wonderful woman a couple of Ben Franklins and assure her that Tony indeed was very sorry - he's not - and very grateful for her services - that he is, he loves Misses Woyzeck and her ability to get anything out of his shirts and return them perfectly crisp.  
  
The hot water feels like magic on Tony's skin.  Probably because he hasn't showered since- oh gross. He squirts an extra large glob of fresh smelling shower gel onto his high performance luffa and leans out of the shower to grab what he was told to be a 'bath bomb for the shower' by the cute brunette who worked in the fair trade hippie soap store he never remembered the name of before scrubbing his skin for quite some time.   
  
It feels good. as simple as that was, it feels good to be clean and Tony always appreciated the power of a good, cleansing shower as he rinses shampoo from his hair. It smells fucking good in here and he feels really good about himself, standing up to Nick, not shitting his pants while coming to the rescue of fucking Loki Odinson, God of Fucked Up Shenanigans and genocide. The water is hot and relaxing on his skin like a thousand tiny fingers releasing tension from his muscles.   
  
He closes his eyes and leans against the shower wall. For the first time in days, he feels relaxed. The tiles are warm against his back, the water hot on his chest and stomach and- he sighs when the warmth pools at the base of his spine and spreads to his dick. He lets out a soft groan when he wraps his hand around himself, squeezes gently, and conjures images of anonymous bodies writhing with pleasure. He imagines thrusting into tight, slick heat as he strokes himself harder. His movements are quick and dirty and he quickly finds himself bracing the wall as he’s so, so close. The faceless body in his mind takes shape, slender, strawberry blonde, moaning softly beneath him. Pepper. He comes hard with her name on his lips.   
  
"Fuck." He rinses himself and escapes the shower, towels off and gets dressed pushing Pepper far, far into the depths of his mind. He pulls a fresh, clean shirt over his head and slips into the closest pair of sneakers. Of course, Bruce hasn't told him what he wants to eat, probably because he's too busy pulling hardware from Rock of Ages. That's all right, Tony needs to get out, needs to walk, to clear his head, to be anywhere but here. So, he takes the elevator down and decides to walk out to get food. He puts on sunglasses and thanks Happy for the offer of a drive but he'd rather walk (leaving Happy looking slightly confused but by now the man had given up on trying to understand Tony's whims). So he does, a couple of blocks before stopping at Shawarma King where he orders two... no make that three to go.


	4. Daimon (un)Chained

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stark Tower: a beacon in clean energy research and development, home to billionaire Tony Stark and his Iron Man,also temporary home of brilliant physicist Dr. Bruce Banner, temporary home of Natasha Romanoff, Steve Rogers, and Clint Barton, ~~future~~ new Avengers Headquarters, high security prison ~~torture chamber~~ humane prison for criminally insane gods of ~~mischief~~ kittens...

Shawarma is the most amazing thing Tony has ever eaten. Sure, there are the whole 'we survived an apocalyptic alien invasion' connotations, but it's truly the savoury simplicity of it: meat wrapped in bread. There was nothing simple about this shawarma though. The flavour is an orgasmic explosion on his palate every time. He's always loved cheeseburgers, beautiful perfect all-American food. Now, he doesn't remember the last time he's even craved a cheeseburger. And he really, really wants to screw Bruce and just start eating anyway, but he had to call him for food and put the bag of delicious on the bar counter.

"I see we couldn't resist Shawarma King." Bruce smiles when he emerges from Loki's cell, hands also covered in blood, and moves to wash them thoroughly before he sits down on a barstool and pulls a wrap from the bag. "Three?"

"Yeah, thought we'd start on the treating him like a prisoner rather than a torture porn queen sooner rather than later. He said anything yet?"

"The Princess of Asgard isn't talking." Bruce takes a massive bite, and Tony follows along and then they both appear to realize just how hungry they are and continue to eat in utter silence. Only the occasional groan of flavour satisfaction can be heard until the last bite vanishes in their mouths and they sit, breathing heavily, cradling their food baby bellies for a while. "You need to fix the lock on the door. I removed most of the spikes, but I don't feel I should remove any more when there's a wide open door for him to escape through."

"'kay," Tony nods and closes his eyes. He opens them again when he feels Bruce staring at him. "Oh you mean now! All right, fine, okay." He gets up, grabs the locking mechanism Hulk had pulled from the door and heads into his labs. Technically, he could just pass the task on to the R&D team three floors down, but he figures, he might as well keep himself busy and from taking a nap. Of course, the Hulk-smashed tech is useless and even Jarvis can't help him bring that processor back to life.

So, Tony comes up with something new and by the time he's done, he has a shiny new locking mechanism, DNA activated but the trick is that the DNA has to come from the fingerprint of a living, breathing being. No killing and transferring eyeballs to crazy devices or just scraping someone's cheek and entering with a cotton swab. He's a bit proud and programs the lock for his DNA. Bruce and he would be the only people with lock-opening access. The fewer people, the better, and he trusts Bruce with his life which he can't really say for many other people save Natasha, and Clint, and Thor, and- god damn it, he is having some sort of maudlin yay team kind of moment. Ugh.

When he heads upstairs, he can hear Clint from the elevator doors. Tony never in a million years would have pegged Clint as loud but there he is, fawning loudly over the 'holy fucking shit awesome' view of his room. Tony smiles. Okay, so he isn't a team player, so he isn't very happy with whatever this situation is Nick has forced on him. However, after everything is said and done, they were a team, they were the Avengers, and maybe if they can fight off an alien invasion and beat megalomaniac gods of genocide, then maybe they could all manage to babysit him together. They’re a team. He’s big. They've fought bigger. This is a mission they are on. War is coming. And they are so not ready.

“Tony?” He startles when Natasha speaks behind him. “I wanted to thank you for the accommo-“

“Don’t worry about it.” Tony smiles at her but he knows it’s tired. “I take care of my friends.” She lets him get away with it, nods, and moves to join the others. “Wait, Nat!” He looks at the lock in his hand. "I'm going to install this and I want you to use all your expertise to try and open it.”

“All of them?” She raises an eyebrow.

“All of them.” Tony nods. “I want to make sure there can be no unauthorized access.”

“Who is authorized?”

“Not telling. Part of the mission.” He smirks. “Also can’t watch me install it. That would be cheating.”

Natasha just nods, but Tony can see a glint of excitement in her eyes. If anyone could figure out how to break into that lock, it would be her. She walks away and he allows himself to admire her ass for a moment. Even in loose fitting jeans, it was an amazing ass. And really, he was allowed to look, it’s not like- he pushes the thought away and installs the lock.

He remembers the shawarma he brought when he is about to pour himself another drink. It’s not exactly graceful food. And how were they going to feed Loki? They can’t unchain his hands to let him eat. Oh yeah, a knife and fork, Tony always wanted to know what those felt like embedded in eyeballs and spleens. He opens the fridge to put the wrap away for later and his eyes fall onto the leftover green smoothie Bruce had made him earlier. Straw in eyeball, less likely to occur. Just to be sure, he pours it into a rinsed takeout soda cup leftover from breakfast-lunch. 

He takes a breath, lets Jarvis know where he’s going and to alert Bruce at the first sight of trouble, and enters the lair- cell, he enters the cell. He’s not going to start calling it Loki’s Lair, that’s just… not cool and not at all confidence inducing. Loki's cell. Cell. Yes, cell. His cell is now the same temperature as the rest of the house. The lights are still dimmed and Loki still has spikes embedded in his hips and thighs, keeping him upright. Tony cringes but decides to wait for Bruce to do anything else. He's here to bring a peace offering. Loki knows he's there but doesn't turn his head. He doesn't say a word. That makes Tony a bit suspicious. He's up to something.

"Hey, so, I brought you shawarma seeing as you never got any what with you tied up in the bathroom and all, but then I was thinking you needing your hands for that and all, let's leave that for later shall we?" He steps around to face Loki and tries not to clutch the cup too hard. Loki raises an eyebrow at him. Still says nothing. "Now there's a bit of a downside to this. You're not gonna like it. I certainly don't like it. So why don't we just get it over with so Bruce can get the rest of the hardware out?" He holds out the cup.

"For me? You shouldn't have." His voice is still hoarse but already rife with a tone of superiority and Tony really, really wants to suit up and smack it out of him.

“Look,” Tony takes a breath, “I get it. You don’t want to be here. I don’t want you to be here, but your brother is my-“

“You don’t want me here because I remind you just how barbaric your precious S.H.I.E.L.D can be.” Loki tilts his head. “Have you come instead of the blood drenched Russian? Are you my balm?” He laughs, a sickening sound.

“I am trying to extend-“

“Oh I get what you are trying to do, and let me assure you it will not work. I will get out of these chains and when I do I will make you watch while I peel the skin and muscle from your bones. It is only too bad Miss Potts won’t be joining us to watch. You do have my condolences, Mr. Stark.” He sneers and then smiles and licks his bottom lip.

Tony doesn't flee the room. He leaves before he ends up trying to kill Loki and getting himself killed in the process. He leans against the wall and lets out a shuddering breath. Loki’s trying to get under his skin. It’s obvious. If not Pepper he would have used someone else. Pepper is, was-

“I take it he’s not playing nice.” Bruce leans against the wall beside him.

“That he is not.” He composes himself and smiles at Bruce. “He’s kind of an asshole, actually.” He bites the inside of his cheek.

“Ah, he went there, I see." Bruce squeezes Tony's shoulder. "He's a dick with more daddy issues than you. Don't let him get to you. He wants that."

"I know that’s what he wants. How the hell does he even know about-?" He breaks off. He can’t say it. Not yet. Maybe not even ever.

"Who knows what he overheard or if he just chose her because he knew you were close. If anything, your reaction to her name probably gave him more clues. Do you want the Other Guy to force feed him?"

"Yes." Tony wants to watch Loki be thrown into tiles. "Wait, no. No." He sighs and looks at Bruce. "We're trying to, I don't even know, what are we trying to do here? Extend an olive branch? Extract information? Sit around a camp fire and roast marshmallows?"

"Ideally, yes. Not the camp fire part. We need to know who and what we are up against and Bag of Cats over there is the only one who has actually encountered whatever Big Bad Evil is heading our way." Bruce takes the shake from Tony. "How about we both go in there, finish removing the hardware and see about making that room a little more habitable before offering this again?"

"Flies. Honey. Got it. Back me up when I start screaming like a banshee.”

“Won’t let him get that far.” Bruce smiles as Tony returns to the room. Decent of him to let Tony recover, let him try to turn shit around on Loki. Just gotta outsmart the crazy. How hard could that be?

Loki watches him, watches his every move. His head is slightly tilted, lips parted to a half-grin. Creepy fucker. He doesn’t say a damn word either. Just watches Tony with that psychotic smile and Tony can almost hear the Jaws theme in his head. He’s dealt with Loki before. He knows the kind of crazy inside that guy’s head and there’s only a set of spikes and some magical chain between him and Loki wearing his skin like a pelt. Loki licks his lips, lets his smile go fully maniacal psychopath.

“All right, Kitten, I get it.” Tony will be damned if he lets Loki get to him again. “You get off on all this. Turns your crank, but I am having serious issues trying to-“

“Trying to what, Mr. Stark?” Loki smiles. “Be my knight in shining armour? Save me from the evil S.H.I.E.L.D. and show me that there is another way? A route for salvation perhaps? A way for me to make amends if only I cooperate?” He laughs. “Oh please, spare me your sentiment. You are nothing but a man trying to find meaning after losing the one thing he-“

“Enough!” Tony slams his hand against the metal wall and to his surprise, Loki moves away from him. Barely noticeable, but Tony saw the movement. And it was away from him. “You’re tied up in chains. There are fucking spikes boring into your body and if you could get out and do all the horrible things to me, you already would have. But you can’t. That’s the clinch, isn't it? You are trapped in my fucking tower and now that I have Fury off my back I can do whatever the fuck I want with you.”

“Are you trying to threaten me again?” Loki smiles, but there is less psychosis, and something else is creeping into his eyes. “You are not particularly threatening without your iron armour.”

“I am trying to be the good guy!” Tony slams the wall again and looks at Loki. It’s his turn for a slightly crazy grin. “But you want none of it, don’t you? You like being chained up like an animal. You love it, don’t you? You’re probably hard under that little rag of yours.” He kneels and opens the medkit still on the floor. “I know your type. You get off on the pain and you falter as soon as someone comes along and shows the tiniest bit of dominance.”

“Is that how you played in bed with Miss Potts?”

Before Tony’s brain can react, his arm already does. The noise reverberates when Tony backhands Loki across the face. “You want the pain? You want to be trapped like the monster you are?” Tony threads a curved needle from the medkit with medical thread.

Loki’s eyes flicker. Fear. Tony almost gets hard just from seeing fear in Loki's eyes. He looks at Loki, calm, collected. He almost feels like he’s someone else. He sees Pepper fall into the void while he’s paralysed and he grips Loki’s chin and leans his weight against him. Loki stiffens with pain when the spikes sink deeper into him, probably bore into bone. The rage is almost enough to make Tony enjoy it, almost enough to fill his dick with blood because he’s the Alpha-fucking-Male now.

“Is this what you want?!” He pushes Loki’s head back, and he feels Loki struggle beneath him. “You want to be sewn shut like a freak show?!” He pushes the needle underneath Loki’s lip when he feels a hand on his wrist, gripping tight enough to stop him. He half expects Bruce beside him, but it’s Loki’s hand. The spikes holding back his arms are embedded, no piercing through his shoulder. His breathing is ragged and Tony can barely hear ‘stop’ escape his lips. He drops the needle and for a moment, they are frozen like this, Loki staring at Tony, gripping his wrist and Tony staring back.

“Everything okay in here?” Bruce peeks behind the plastic curtain and Loki lets go of Tony’s wrist.

“Yea- yeah.” Tony steps back. “I think he’s ready to be less of an asshole.”

Bruce is a game changer or rather the Other Guy is but Loki knows the association and he knows Bruce has control. There's danger and Tony is sure Loki's not the kind of guy who gets to taste mortality often. Bruce just smiles at the guy, calm but deliberate and dripping with 'don't push your luck, kid'.

Sure enough, Loki is silent while Bruce and Tony work on removing the rest of the spikes from his body. The odd hiss and suppressed whimper escape his lips when the spikes are pulled from flesh and when they remove the final one, Loki is pale and limp in his chains. Tony notices that the regenerations are taking longer than they did earlier. He must be getting weaker.

"We can't just leave him hanging like this." Bruce looks at Loki who seems more unconscious now. How much of it was an act, Tony isn't sure. In the end, they manage to get Loki onto a chaise longue that Natasha had pushed across the marble floor from her room much to Tony's chagrin. She even helps them rearrange the chains so Loki’s arms are spread to the side and he looks a bit like a sitting Jesus. Tony is grateful for Natasha’s support; Steve and Clint refuse to even come near the door. Clint's pissed and Steve just thinks this whole thing is a terrible idea, but to send him a postcard from the afterlife. Funny guy. And Thor. Who knows where that guy is?

Tony stays back mumbling something about integrating the camera feed from the room to Jarvis’ mainframe. He does it, but he keeps glancing over to Loki before looking up.

Where the hell’s Thor, he thinks to himself, sure could use his help. He looks up at the ceiling and wonders for a moment if there really are all-seeing eyes watching them. Oh yeah, here he is ready to speak a child’s prayers to a pseudo-deity in the hopes he might receive an answer. It’s not like Thor had indicated he’d be back anytime soon. Or ever. There was a war coming after all. He shakes his head. Get it together, Stark, he thinks and tries to shake the feeling of unease.

“He will hear you.” Loki’s voice comes from the bed. Tony turns around to find him awake, alert and no longer bleeding. He’s pale still, the skin under his eyes yellowed and bruised. And did he just read Tony’s mind or is he so transparent, Loki easily picked up on what he’s thinking? Probably the latter, he sure as fuck hopes so. The last thing he needs is Loki inside his head. 

“Okay,” he runs a hand over his face. “Look, I can tell you’re not doing so well. You’re probably starving and I,” he gestures, “I won’t be accused of being a heartless warden.”

Loki opens his mouth to speak but Tony interrupts him.

“I know. I know. You’d probably rather die than blah blah blah. Pride and all that, got it. While your wasting away would solve a lot of problems for me, I did promise your brother to, uh, keep you, preferably alive. So, how about I bring you that shake, which by the way is awesome for your skin, and you drink the damn thing if I promise not to tell anyone I made you drink from an adult sippy cup?”

Loki narrows his eyes but nods, again, barely any movement. Getting anything out of that guy is going to be a ton of work. Tony grabs the cup from the table. It’s kind of warm by now but he bends the straw with a smile.

“Look, bendy straw just for you, kitten.” Loki glares. Tony feels a bit triumphant when he doesn’t flinch. “Don’t push my luck. Got it. Wouldn’t want to get skinned over a smoothie.” He holds the cup in front of Loki who looks at him. “Seriously? Fine.” He turns his head away. For a moment there is silence.

“Why Mr. Stark, I believe you are trying to kill me after all.”

“Shut up and drink your dinner.” Tony chuckles.

Tony Stark 1 – God of Kittens 0


	5. The Accuser of our Brethren

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stark Tower: a beacon in clean energy research and development, home to billionaire Tony Stark and his Iron Man,also temporary home of brilliant physicist Dr. Bruce Banner, temporary home of Natasha Romanoff, Steve Rogers, and Clint Barton, ~~future~~ new Avengers Headquarters, high security prison ~~torture chamber~~ humane prison for criminally insane _and starving_ gods of ~~mischief~~ ~~kittens~~ what the fuck just happened?!...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  ~~Sorry for the delay~~ I did indeed spend my birthday (yesterday) drunk off my ass and am currently battling turkey coma from thanksgiving looking like the aftermath of a Ke$ha video
> 
> thank you to seanchaidh for the awesome last minute beta action. I am currently looking for a new beta for this fic, so if anyone is interested, email me at enkanowen (at) gmail (dot) com.

_When Tony opens his eyes, something feels different. He's on the couch in his living room, but where there used to be giant bay windows, he finds nothing but a corridor of doors. He's dreaming, he knows he is. Maybe those drugs Bruce gave him are doing something after all. He's just going to stay in place until he wakes up. This is his dream and he's the king of his dreams, damn it! So, he waits, looking at nothing in particular, he doesn't want to give his subconscious any ideas. However, the shadow he catches in the corner of his eyes does pique his interest._

_"Nope." He digs his fingers into the couch cushions. "We are not moving. I'm done having shit dreams every night, you hear that, subconscious? Done!"_

_There's a gentle laughter coming from the bar area._

_"You are quite determined." Pepper is standing behind the bar, pouring drinks._

_"You're not real." He tries to look away, but it's Pepper, his Pepper, perfect in every way greeting him with a smile._

_"You still drink your whiskey neat?" She holds up a glass, a fake glass made up by his mind, held by a fake Pepper, containing fake alcohol and yet he can't stop himself as he gets up off the couch and crosses the distance between them._

_"I miss you." He says before he can stop himself. So much for total control over his own mind. "I miss you so much." He feels his surface crack. Maybe it's because he knows this is a dream. Maybe because he hopes he'll forget when he wakes up. He wants to touch her so badly, wants to hold her, kiss her. He wants dream-Pepper to hold him, to tell him everything will be alright, but she doesn't. She just looks at him with curious eyes and heightens his awareness of the dream. None of this is real._

_"Do you want me to leave?" She says and takes a drink._

_"What?" Panic. Sheer utter panic and he can feel nothing else. "No. I never wanted you to-" He is trying to get his breathing under control. It’s a dream. Nothing more._

_"Don't leave." He extends his hand to her and to his great relief, she takes it. So, he pulls her close and wraps his arms around her. He shouldn’t. He should force himself to wake up. He should let her go, move on and he especially shouldn’t tell her: "I love you."_

_"I know." She smiles and leans to kiss him. It's so vivid, her scent, the feel of her lips on his. Dreams be damned, Tony no longer wants to wake up. The kiss is passionate, and Tony wants nothing more than to lose himself in it, to let her strong arms pull him closer, her dark hair fall into her face- wait- Tony pulls back from the kiss and stares into green eyes. He tries to will his brain to stop, to wake the fuck up, to refrain from registering the rest of the face-angular-, the hair- dark and shaggy-, the arms- stronger than his own-, the smile- a sneer-, no!_

_"What the fuck?!" He pulls away from Loki and loses his footing._

He wakes when he hits the floor beside his bed. Panting. Heart racing. Fuck. He looks at the bottle of pills Bruce had given him. Fuck. He's going to- he needs-

Tony gets up and takes a swig from the flask in his bedside drawer before taking a shower. Two weeks ago, he was living a perfectly normal (as normal as being a billionaire superhero could ever be) life. Normal by common standards or not, he had managed to find a routine, one in which he could function. A routine that kept him busy, kept him from thinking of her. Not that he isn’t busy now. Oh no, he’s busy as fuck alright. He has three new housemates, four if you count Maria’s increasing presence which he might as well. What’s one more?

Not to mention that Natasha has taken her mission incredibly serious and continues to try and break into Tony's labs, his bedroom, Bruce's room. Though, much to Tony's amusement, she recently had taken up grilling Steve for information. Poor guy knows nothing about the lock, and Tony is almost ready to think that she knows and is interrogating him for her own entertainment. Clint no longer stares at the door to Loki's cell with utter disdain and mistrust, but rather decided that is he was stuck inside Stark's tower for the unforeseeable future, he would make the best of it. And Tony will be the first to admit that the guy cleans up nicely when he hits the nightlife of the block.

"Okay, who ate all the damn olives?" Tony looks into the fridge. It's full of... food. That has never happened before but sure enough, Jarvis had arranged for weekly delivery of groceries. Tony still doesn't cook. Everyone else does though, and he's a willing test subject. Unless Clint is cooking. He made that mistake once and came to the conclusion that Clint does not possess taste buds of any kind.

In the living room, Tony can see Natasha raise her hand with a smile that has ‘shit disturber’ written all over it. "They're for alcohol only. So, unless you had about two gallons worth of Martinis this morning, which I know you didn't, don’t touch my olives. I just came from the bar to make one." He is not pouting over a lack of olives. He isn't. Nope. He sighs and swigs back the dry Martini he'd just made in one gulp when he sees the jar of olives, still filled with brine and a few floating herbs sitting on the shelf beside the yoghurt. To make up for the olives, she does share her grilled cheese sandwich with him later on. Whoever taught that woman to add bacon needs to be commended, Tony thinks, less annoyed over the lack of olives now. Maybe, just maybe he could get used to this.

He doesn't mind that evenings sometimes end in movie nights or game nights or “let's suit up and hunt some bad guys, sorry Bruce, someone's gotta stay back and you cause a lot of damage running free" nights. Bruce doesn't seem to mind too much. Tony can tell he's not too keen on the sudden increase of the Stark Tower population. Bruce enjoys peace and quiet. Natasha and Clint alone are enough to make the place not peace and quiet. Bruce usually wanders off after spending a few hours with everyone, sometimes for hours, sometimes for a couple of days. Tony had been trying to ask him if he was okay, if he needed anything but it soon was clear that all he needed was time alone to do work.

So, Tony gave him just that. And things were working out, for the most part. There is rhythm in their day now and it helps immensely that they all have their own bathrooms. Sometimes, they even have dinner together, usually take out, but Tony is sure they're only a few of weeks away from a home cooked meal and sitting around a dining room table as opposed to just flopping onto the couches like they usually do. Okay, so maybe it's a good rhythm, a distracting one, and just maybe what Tony needs in his life right now. No one gives him shit about his drinking... yet. He figures there will be an intervention probably a week after the family dinner. And that will be when he kicks everyone out.

"Anybody want a drink?" He gets up off the couch and heads to the bar. Everyone raises their hands. So, Tony makes them drinks. Natasha drinks vodka like Tony drinks scotch. Neat. Steve can't get drunk, but ever since he's been introduced to craft beers, he drinks those for the taste. Tony's about to fix some horribly sweet concoction for Clint when Jarvis announces a call from S.H.I.E.L.D. on a secure line. He expects Nick to yell at them, but instead Maria appears on the screen.

"Miss Romanov, gentlemen," she says, looking tired. Tony narrows his eyes. "We require your assistance. We have put through the coordinates to your devices and we will rendezvous in an hour for briefing." She disappears and Tony looks at his screen. There are no coordinates there. He's off the mission.

“Hey,” Bruce comes wandering into the living room from the labs, “anyone else get this?”

“Oh great,” Tony puts down his tablet, “I get kicked off the mission because they need the big guy.”

“I’d apologize,” Bruce adjusts his glasses, “but last time you left you told me not to stay up. So yeah, your turn to put the baby to bed.” He smirks.

“All right, all right, I get it. I’ve been leaving you with the baby alone a lot, I’m sorry, sweetheart.” He wraps his arms around Bruce and plants a kiss on his cheek. “Be safe, honey. Don’t have too much fun smashing things!”

They share a laugh before the others head to the jet parked atop of the brand new landing platform. After they disappear, Tony runs a hand over his face. That should have been fairly convincing. Or not, he doesn’t particularly care at this moment. What he wants to know is what that mission is, why he is off it, and what the fuck Nick thinks he’s doing.

“Jarvis, run a-“

“-trace intercept of the message sent to the devices. Already on it.”

“Daddy loves you.” Tony grins and walks into the kitchen and pulls a cup filled with a protein shake from the fridge. He puts a bendy straw in it. Loki and he had come to a silent agreement: no more chlorophyll shakes and Loki doesn’t give him too much lip. In fact, Loki hasn’t said a lot at all. Silence isn’t a good thing when it comes from a crazy megalomaniac prisoner. He could be up to anything, but now that no one is around, Tony thinks he should expand his sources of information.

The light in the room turns on when Tony opens the door. Over the past couple of days, he and Bruce installed a few features that made the room more habitable and easier to control. Lights upon entering the room makes dealing with Loki a lot less daunting. Tony usually times his entrances so he catches Loki during a dark period (five hours of light, six hours of darkness seemed like a fair cycle at the time), because he kind of enjoys that brief moment when Loki squints at the sudden brightness. However, he seems to have caught him during a light cycle. Loki merely turns his head to look at him.

"Hello sunshine, how are you today?" He smiles at Loki and turns on the recording devices in the room. "Sorry I'm a bit late but Daddy had to sort something out with his friends."

Loki looks like he's silently suffering, and Tony considers that win all the way. He puts the shake on the side table and pulls up a rolling stool to sit beside Loki.

"So I was thinking," he holds the shake with the bendy straw in front of Loki who drinks silently, "you look like you want to answer a few questions today."

Maybe not, but Tony has noticed over the past couple of days is that Loki has been looking a little pallid, a little gaunt. Something Tony attributes to the fact that Loki probably is used to a very high calorie diet, much like his brother Thor. While the shakes have been packed with extra protein and calories, Tony has a hunch that Loki probably needs more than 2000 calories a day. Which means he's hungry. Which means he's going to try and break out and that is something Tony wants to avoid at all cost.

"Do I?" Loki raises an eyebrow and leans back against the chaise lounge. He must be hungry but he still leaves the shake half full.

"Yeah, you do." Tony looks at him. "What have you overheard at S.H.I.E.L.D.?"

"What makes you think that even if I knew something you do not, I would cooperate with your demands?" Loki scoffs and Tony rolls his eyes.

"Because," Tony takes a sip of the shake, coconut mango, one of his better creations, "if you talk, Daddy will let you eat your fill. Real dinner. Until you throw up, I don't even care."

"Mhm." Loki thinks for a few moments, looks at Tony, weighing his options. He takes a breath before he speaks again. "Well, I have nothing else to bargain with, do I? However, I do have one request, one stipulation if you will."

"Let's hear it, kitten."

"Please stop referring to yourself as 'daddy' when you speak to me."

Tony laughs, “Deal. Now, I may have specific questions in the very near future, but let’s start with this: What’s Nick Fury planning? What’s the real reason he put you here?”

“How will I know you intend to keep your side of this bargain?”

“Uh, hello?” Tony looks around the room. “Who picked hardware out of you for hours and let you bleed on this beautiful period piece?”

Loki just looks at Tony. There was no trust between them. How could there be? Loki was a war criminal and prisoner and Tony was his keeper, the personification of all that Loki despised. He watches Loki for a little while. There was no common ground, no base for them to start trusting each other. Sure, Tony freed Loki from torture, but he did have his own motives to do so, motives he now wants to bring forth. Loki has no reason to cooperate. Tony isn't going to free him, and even if he does, where does Loki have to go? It is the kind of scenario Tony hates and Steve constantly brings up: no-win scenarios, sacrifice play, being the guy to-

"Fine, let's go."

"What?" Loki tilts his head.

"The kitchen. Let's go." Tony goes to remove the chains from the wall.

"This is a trick."

"Not a trick." There's a clink and a sigh from Loki when the chains come loose from the wall and Loki lowers his arms. Magical chains indeed, they shorten to a more accommodating length while still keeping Loki firmly bound. "We're at a point where someone has to show some kind of- maybe not trust, but confidence that I'm almost certain you're not going to strangle me with those chains."

"What if I do?"

"You won't."

"And why is that?"

"You're bored." It's a wild guess. "And if there is anything you hate, it's being bored." He's really more talking about himself, but he figures some of it applies to Loki as well. "I know, I hate being bored. Brilliant mind with nothing to do but entertain its own thoughts. Don't get me wrong, that can be fantastic sometimes, but you've been doing that for quite some time now."

Loki narrows his eyes for a moment, his body tense and briefly, Tony is convinced he's going to get thrown out of another window. However, Loki relaxes and sits up straight.

"Very well, I accept your bargain."

"Excellent!" Tony removes the chains from the bolts in the floor. "Try to keep the murderous impulses under control."

It takes a few moments for Loki to move his legs over to one side of the bed and then to get up. Tony pretends he's busy looking elsewhere but they both know he is not. Only an idiot would turn his back to Loki even in a weakened, chained-up state. He opens the door and leads Loki out of the cell. Slowly. He notices Loki looking around, taking in everything he sees around him. Tony's probably made a mistake, but it was too late now. So, instead, he does lead Loki to the kitchen.

"Chez Tony's is open for business." Tony leans against the counter and opens the fridge. "What do you want?"

There is a silence. An uncomfortable one. Loki is holding back.

"Pick something. I'll look away and hey, if you want another smoothie, I will not judge. They are tasty." The look Loki shoots him makes Tony grin. Ah, yes, not a fan of the protein shake that one. "How about you sit there at the breakfast bar trying not to strangle me and I put food in front of you. Deal? Oh, and before you expect a five-course home cooked meal, I heat up take out."

Loki either doesn't register what that means or he's still playing the 'too cool for school' card. Tony shrugs and pops one of the leftover roast chickens in what suspiciously looks like a microwave oven but is so, so much more. Microwaves don't analyse the molecular structure of the food placed in them before heating it in mere seconds. It was genius. He takes out the chicken and puts it in front of Loki.

And Loki, well, Tony expects him to fight the hunger, to hold out as long as possible. He does not expect Loki to just dig in, no questions asked, doesn't even pause to sniff or ask for utensils. Nope, God of Mischief, silver-tongued liesmith, war criminal, murderer, hundreds, if not thousands of years old... and here he was sitting at Tony's breakfast bar, looking like a starved kid shoving food into his mouth at rapid speed. Tony watches him for a moment, but when there are more bones on the plate than meat, he pops another take out container into the not-microwave. When he removes it, Loki has moved to breaking the bones and sucking the marrow out of them.

"Oh, don't," he cringes and removes the plate of bones and puts a shawarma wrap under Loki's nose. "Here."

Turns out it takes leftover Chinese food, the other roast chicken in the fridge, a plate of steamed vegetables, a dozen scrambled eggs, nearly a gallon of milk, and half a box of Lucky Charms before Loki slows down and leans back, out of breath, exhausted, but looking... Tony's never seen Loki look content, but there it was. Huh. Only took most of the contents of his fridge. Tony makes a mental note to get Jarvis to increase the weekly food deliveries by 60 per cent. Possibly more.

"Yeah," Tony pulls a shake from the fridge and takes a sip, "if I ever doubted you to be Thor's brother, I think this kind of sealed the deal there."

Loki just kind of shifts in his chair, the chains clinking together as he does. He looks spaced out for a moment, then a little nauseated, probably as the last of the food hits his stomach. Tony watches him. They have a bargain and now it was up to Loki to return the favour, but Tony is giving him a moment while he's trying to figure out where all that food fits.

"He's alive." Loki says quietly.

"What? Who is alive?" Tony feels his chest constrict, throat and mouth dry. He'd expected Loki to talk, but this was almost too much because in his mind he knows the name Loki will say. And the worst part is: it's not the name Tony wants to hear. He's a horrible person.

"Phil Coulson is alive."

Shit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Unfortunately some bad news, I am going to have to take a smallish hiatus until the weekend of October 26th due to school work (thesis proposal) and other fandom works coming due soon (marvel_bang and avengersfest). I'd like to have the next chapter done sooner, but I'd rather not make promises I can't keep. So, I will see all of you two and a half weeks :D


	6. An Unfallen Condition

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stark Tower: a beacon in clean energy research and development, home to billionaire Tony Stark and his Iron Man,also temporary home of brilliant physicist Dr. Bruce Banner, temporary home of Natasha Romanoff, Steve Rogers, and Clint Barton, ~~future~~ new Avengers Headquarters, ~~high security~~ prison (debatable) ~~torture chamber~~ **humane** ~~prison~~ ____________ for criminal ~~insane and starving~~ gods ~~of mischief kittens?~~ what the fuck just happened, no seriously, ** _what the fuck just happened?!_**...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh hey! I am so happy to be back. Still incredibly stressed with school and work, but frostiron is my escape from all of that. Should be back to regular weekly schedules now, yay!

“I apologize, Mr. Stark, but the connection has failed again.”  
  
“Failed? You don't fail, Jarvis.” Tony looks at the display with a frown. Sure enough, the call to Nick hasn’t gone through.  
  
“I am aware and apologize again, sir.” There is an odd distortion in Jarvis' voice. “I-” It is followed by a screeching in the control panel and Tony manages to step back to avoid a faceful of sparks and smoke.  
  
“Jarvis?” He's trying to suppress the worry in his voice. There have been no recent upgrades that could have overclocked the system.  
  
“Sorry... sir...” Does Jarvis sound out of breath? Artificial Intelligence doesn't breathe. “There is... interference. I am trying to rerou-” Jarvis cuts off and the whole building goes dark but for the steady glow through Tony's shirt. He looks over to Loki who is still sitting at the breakfast bar. Either he's playing along really well, or he's just as surprised as Tony, looking around with confusion. Still, it's Loki.  
  
“Are you trying to fuck with me?” Tony tries the tablet on the dining room table. While it turns on, there is no connection to the mainframe. Not the hardware then.  
  
“Believe me, if I was you would certainly not ask that question.” He gives Tony a look, slides off the chair, and tilts his head. “But I fear you may have uninvited guests.”  
  
“What did you- wait don't tell me- I'd know if you'd done something, right, right.” He glances at Loki who is still chained, a faint glow emanating from the chains. He's still wearing the shirt they'd tied around his hips because pants would mean unchaining and that wasn't going to happen. If those chains stand between them and Loki going full-on megalomaniac God of Mayhem, then he's wearing one of Bruce's flannel (who wears flannel anyhow aside from Seattle grunge bands in the 90s) shirts like a kilt.  
  
“Don't move.” He points at Loki who rolls his eyes and holds up his chained hands. All Tony needs to do is slip into his bedroom, activate an old Mark V travel armour stored in a suitcase under the bed. He needs 45 seconds tops, 20 to reach the case, 22 to put on the suit, plus minus a margin of two. 11 seconds in, the glass doors shatter and Tony swear loudly as he's thrown back by the force of an energy burst.  
  
Of course, they shoot first, of course they do, and for a few more moments, energy rays light up the room long enough for Tony to see Loki's face distort with something like rage and pain before he ducks behind the bar. And Tony realizes two things: all-powerful beings not so brave without their powers, and he knows who or what the fuck those things are. Tony looks to the bedroom and the path that was clear seconds ago now is filled with a singular large creature. He can take one without the armour, get its gun thing. Yeah, that could work. And really what other option does he have?  
  
He goes for it. He ducks and avoids a swipe from the creature's arm. It looks like an angry cousin of the Chitauri as it shoots in Tony's direction. Fighting without the armour has to be more precise, mostly because Tony knows his body can't take even a fraction of what the armour can. He is smaller and faster, so he goes with the classic 'avoid getting hit and wait for a hole in the defense' tactic. Sure enough, there's an opportunity and Tony springs up for a punch.  
  
When the creature catches his fist, he remembers why he has the suit. When the creature crushes his hand, Tony screams. He can feel the bones give out under the pressure and shift and crack and shatter. When a blade pierces through his shoulder, he hit the ground hard. One of the creatures roughly pulls out the blade, and Tony can feel the blood rushing from the wound with the beat of his heart. It flips him over and raises the blade once more.  
  
So, this is how Tony Stark will die: stuck with a glorified knife in his own kitchen. He's kind of glad his life isn't flashing before his eyes. He doesn't close them. If he's gonna go he- The creature suddenly makes an odd, high-pitched noise, waivers, and falls to the ground. Behind it, Loki stands tall, angry, and still wearing only that damned shirt-kilt, a glowing blade in his hand.  
  
Tony feels a little cold and a little detached when he watches Loki break one of the creatures' necks, nearly severing the head with his bare hands. He should feel something through the continually thickening haze when Loki conjures another blade out of thin air. Especially when he watches the blade grow and glow and pierce the creature's juggular and then heart. Definitely when he realizes that there are no chains around Loki's hands or feet. Well fuck. He blinks slowly and swallows. Why is he tasting strawberries?  
  
He misses Loki killing the last creature. Probably a good idea considering how covered in blood and bits Loki is when he reappears in Tony's field of vision and kneels beside him.  
  
“So, hey,” Tony's voice is thin in his own ears, “got your voodoo magic back.”  
  
“Lucky for you,” he sniffs the blade still covered in Tony's blood and tosses it aside, “I never lost it.”  
  
Tony thinks he should be a lot more affected by those words, but when Loki places a hand on his wound and murmurs something, the world is suddenly very fuzzy and stops tasting like strawberries in favour of... grass? Then, he's torn out of a blissfully fuzzy moment by what feels to be pins and needles from hell followed by a metaphysical punch in the gut. Tony turns and coughs.  
  
“Oh god,” he pushes himself up to sit, “what the hell, why did that just happen. Why do I feel like you just saved my life?”  
  
“That, Mr. Stark, is because I did.” Loki sits on his heels with a smug look on his face.  
  
“Why?” Tony gingerly cradles his hand. Could have fixed that too while he was at it.  
  
“If they found you dead here, who would they blame for your death?”  
  
“You.”  
  
Loki nods. “And if I wanted you dead, I would have skinned you when I first arrived.”  
  
“Charming.” He looks at Loki. “So tell me, if you had your powers all along-”  
  
“-why would I let them torture me?”  
  
Tony nods.  
  
Loki smiles and says nothing.  
  
“No seriously, wh-”  
  
“What the hell happened here?” They can hear Steve from the living room, footsteps rushing toward the kitchen.  
  
Tony looks at Loki who suddenly looks a lot more beat up than before. There's a silent plea in his eyes as the chains reappear around his wrists and ankles and the conjured blade on the floor looks like nothing more than a kitchen knife.  
  
“Tony are you- what the fuck is going on?” Steve stands in the kitchen, shield up. Tony hears Natasha shout something to Clint and Bruce and a roar has Loki actually flinch.  
  
“It's okay! It's fine! I' fine, I'm fine! God of Kittens just saved my ass from those things!” There's another roar. Hulk wants a piece of Loki and Tony can hardly blame him, but what just happened changes everything. “Put the green guy away, Bruce, it's okay.”  
  
They stand down, but none of them look happy and Tony's sure they don't believe that Loki just saved his life.  
  
“All right,” Steve looks at Loki. “Natasha, Bruce, escort the prisoner and secure him in his cell. Clint, utilize the Quinjet's comm system to try and reach S.H.I.E.L.D., and Tony, you're with me in the living room. I need you to tell me exactly what happened.”  
  
Tony gets up and to his surprise, the pain in his hand has disappeared. When he looks at it, it's still bruised and a bit sore, but it no longer feels like his bones are having a free-for-all with his tendons. Loki must have healed it while everyone was in uproar. Tony glances at Loki who is flanked by Natasha and Bruce. His face is completely void f anything Tony can read. He still wants to know why but he walks into the living room, straight to his bar, and pours himself three fingers of 30 year old Talisker and downs it before refilling his glass.  
  
“Let's start with why Loki wasn't in his cell like he's supposed to be.”  
  
“We were starving him. Not on purpose, just, we've been feeding him like a human and you've seen Thor eat. So, I figured, either we face the possibility of him trying to escape or I use the food as leverage to pry some information from him.”  
  
“And did you pry anything?”  
  
Phil Coulson is alive.  
  
“No.” Tony downs his drink. “Power went out and the dead guys, who were quite a handful while they were alive, burst into this place and tried to help themselves to whatever it was they wanted. Tried to get to the suit in my room, but they cornered me. Probably would have killed me if it hadn't been for-” He gestures vaguely toward Loki's cell. “Saved my life. We killed the others. Then you came in.”  
  
“That's all?” Steve looks skeptical.  
  
“Said he didn't want to be blamed for my death if he didn't actually do it. Do you think we can get him, you know, some clothes.”  
  
“Clothes?” Steve's eyebrows raise, and, oh yeah, this was going to go over well, but Steve usually responded to sudden changes in topic. Not because he’s easily fooled but because he knows when Tony doesn’t want to talk about something anymore.  
  
“Just a thought, I don't know, saving Iron Man should warrant some kind of reward, I guess.”  
  
“Oh yeah? Where is mine for continually saving your ass?” Steve smirks.  
  
“I have told you and Bruce, both, if you want a threesome, all you have to do is ask.” He winks at Steve who rolls his eyes. “No? Your loss.”  
  
Despite the light-hearted interlude, Steve's still all business and it turns out that the coordinates of the mission had lured them into the middle of nowhere sitting around waiting for something to happen until Maria had called the whole thing off. So, that's what that was, a distraction to lure the Avengers away from Tony and Loki. To what end? They wouldn't have poisoned Tony if they wanted him, and Loki certainly wouldn't have killed them if they were his escape route. Not to mention that whole bit where Loki has all his powers but his choosing not to use them to escape, that part is really getting to him.  
  
Since Steve was missing a few major puzzle pieces, he falsely concludes that they were after Tony and his tech or genius brain or whatever. Sure, Tony goes with it. It works for now and Tony needs some time to figure things out, to talk to Loki. He needs to know more and he needs to find where Phil is. Tony sighs and sips his drink, and just then, the power comes back on with profuse apologies from Jarvis.  
  
“Jarvis, stop. We’ll figure it out.” Tony says after a while. “Run a full diagnostic for me, okay?”  
  
“Understood, sir.” There is a pause. “Estimated time to completion: three hours and forty-seven minutes.”  
  
“We're not going anywhere until I know what happened to you.” Tony puts a hand on the control panel, and when Steve disappears from the living room, he adds: “You're the only family I have left.”  
  
“I know, sir.” And more quietly, “I miss her, too, sir.”  
  
“Okay,” Tony wipes at his eye. “Alert me when you are done and turn off monitoring in Loki's cell.”  
  
He sighs and manages to slip past Steve and Natasha, quietly discussing future tactics. Bruce probably has made his way back into the R&D floors and Clint is still tinkering in the quinjet. Perfect. Tony makes it into Loki's cell undiscovered.  
  
"How do I know you're telling the truth?"  
  
Loki looks up from a book. He's not chained against the wall. He could have unchained himself, but Tony thinks that Bruce and Natasha both decided that saving Tony's life was worth a bit of freedom and apparently a copy of The Art of War. well maybe that one was Loki. He puts the book on his lap and the chains disappear.  
  
“I can tell how where he is. Or you can ask Agent Fury why he chose to lie to you.”  
  
"Why would he-" Tony doesn't need to finish the sentence to know. Nick lied because he knew Phil's death would unite them as a team. It was a calculated move. A bastard move, but calculated and successful. Tony feels sick. "Why are you telling me that? Why not string me along with small bits of information instead of using up your ace on a bit of food?"  
  
"Because, Mr. Stark," Loki smiles and leans back in his chair, "that is the smallest bit of information I have."  
  
"Okay," Tony runs a hand over his face, "okay. You wanna take a shower? No offense, but you're getting a bit funky." Loki raises an eyebrow at the sudden change of topic or possibly at the insinuation that he smells. He doesn't but Tony isn't about to tell him that.  
  
"And you trust me to not take advantage of such a gesture?"  
  
"Yeah." Does he really? Loki can kill him where he stands, but he doesn't. Is that trust? "Because you could have dropped me in a moment if you really wanted to. So I figure, you don't actually want to leave here because you have nowhere to go. Because Thor was right, this is the safest place for you, and I intend to find out why that is."  
  
For a moment, Loki just looks at him. Then, he gets up and touches the wall beside his bed.  
  
“Your bathroom lies in this direction?”  
  
“Uh yeah?” And then Loki disappears through the wall. “Son of a bitch. Are you fucking kidding me!?” Great. If Loki isn't in his bathroom when he gets there, he's lost a prisoner. Yeah, that will go over well. Somehow, he makes it to his room without anyone noticing that his heart is hammering in his throat. The room is dark, but light spills from the open door of his en-suite bathroom. His heart returns to its normal place and Tony lets out a sigh when he hears the soft sounds of water cascading from the shower.  
  
Slowly, he approaches the door. Just that one final moment of truth that Loki is in fact showering and not just running the water while he climbs out of the window laughing all the way to the bottom floor. He isn't prepared for Loki standing in the middle of his circular bathtub beneath the rainshower, naked, his back to the door, and washing his hair with the last of Tony's favourite shampoo. And Tony doesn't mean to watch for as long as he does, but he can't help himself. Naked and standing under water, Loki looks serene, almost vulnerable, and that’s probably exactly what he wants watching eyes to think. Tony shakes his head and turns to leave.  
  
“Checking up on me?” He smiles turning slightly into the water to wash the soapy suds from his hair.  
  
“Don't tell me you wouldn't?”  
  
“If this were my prison, your cleanliness would be ensured by hosing you and your cell down at least once a week.” Loki turns around and yeah, he's Thor's brother all right. Enough to make a man feel... small. Tony shakes his head again. Always trying to dodge that one, reminds him of-

"You never told me why." 

"Indeed I have not." Loki takes a hand towel and begins to dry his hair.

Tony walks over to the sink and pours two drinks from a decanther.

"Do you have alcohol in every corner you may possibly find yourself in?"

"Oh no, kitten, this isn't about me. This is about you." He hands Loki a drink trying to ignore that Loki is still buck naked and wet. "You changed your game and I want to know why. Saving my ass wasn't part of your plan. In fact-" He looks at Loki who isn't putting on a facade, isn't trying to deflect Tony with a quip or a threat. Loki finishes his drink in a single gulp and it is then that Tony realizes why and how could he possibly say that out loud? You don't try to convert all of a man's demons into words. You don't even try. They really aren't that different, Loki and he. Tony thinks he should be terrified, but instead, he reaches out and squeezes Loki's arm. He doesn't lose his hand, nor does Loki pull away. 

"Thank you," Tony says quietly, his hand still lingering on Loki's arm, "for saving my life." Loki doesn't make eye contact, but he still hasn't pulled away. "No really," Tony is bold and squeezes Loki's shoulders with both hands. "You saved my ass and it wasn't because you didn't want to be blamed for my death. So thank you. Also thank you for not killing me for feeding you chlorophyll shakes."

Loki actually laughs and it isn't some put on maniacal cackle. It's true and genuine and Tony really wants to kiss the corner of his mou-

"So you can," he shakes himself off internally, takes a few steps toward the door, and snaps his fingers, "beam yourself through space and time, yeah?"

"Space, easily yes, time... I try not to."

“Can you take me to Phil?”

“Are you asking me a favour?”   
  
“I am asking you to take me to Phil, so we can bring him back here.” Tony swallows. “Please.”  
  
Loki looks at him for a long while. Silent. Then, there is a ripple in the air and Loki is clad in simple black trousers and a hunter green button up shirt. Of course. He doesn't reply and Tony nearly takes a step back when he crosses the distance between them in just two steps and wraps his arm around Tony's waist. Tony pretends his breath doesn't hitch in his throat for a moment.  
  
The world lurches in Tony's guts and disappears. For a moment, there is nothing, silence, peace, maybe they’re both dead after all... then it feels as though all the sights and smells and sounds assault Tony's senses before it settles into a cool, tiled room. And before him, there's a hospital bed. And in that bed, attached to I.V.s, and monitors and way too many machines is Phil. The heart monitor beside him pulsing in strong, healthy intervals: beep...beep...beep...beep...beep.

 


	7. Seeking Whom He May Devour

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stark Tower: a beacon in clean energy research and development, home to billionaire Tony Stark and his Iron Man,also temporary home of brilliant physicist Dr. Bruce Banner, temporary home of Natasha Romanoff, Steve Rogers, ~~and~~ Clint Barton, and Phil Coulson ~~future~~ new Avengers Headquarters, ~~high security~~ prison (debatable) ~~torture chamber~~ **humane** ~~prison~~ home? for _formerly_ criminal ~~insane and starving~~ gods of lies and deception.

Before Tony can say anything, he feels the same lurch as before. The world in silence then in chaos before they reappear somewhere outside, somewhere cold, where it is raining.  
  
"What the hell? Why did you do that?!" Tony manages to choke out when he finds his breath again. "I wanted to bring him back!"  
  
"Guards." Loki simply says,"And something else. Something...," he trails off and looks around. "Where are we?"  
  
"Oh great," Tony brushes some conifer needles from his pants, "you're the driver and the navigator, remember?"  
  
"Time was of the essence." Loki looks at the stars for a while. Is he really figuring out their position by the constellations above them? The sudden change in Loki's face from confusion to confident determination tells Tony: yes, yes he is. "We are nearly three of your Earth miles east of our previous location."  
  
“How do you know?” It’s all too damned convenient and Tony doesn’t like it. “We were inside.  
  
“I have been here before.” Loki starts walking and that’s the end of the conversation.  
  
They walk mostly in silence for the first mile. The rain is coming down like a thick mist, settling into their clothes and drenching them to the skin in minutes. Tony has no idea where they are, but judging by the Lodgepole pines surrounding them, Pacific Northwest, perhaps even Canada. It is dawn, but the sun is obscured by a thick blanket of clouds. Loki navigates the forest steadily, in charge of each of his steps even though he's still fucking barefoot. Tony feels a bit inadequate stumbling after him, but he's never liked hiking and he isn't going to start now.  
  
"You know-" he climbs over a fallen trunk; "I still have questions."  
  
"I am certain you do."  
  
"What were those things? And why did they attack us?"  
  
Loki stops. Not the questions he's wanted to hear.  
  
"They were scouts." But he answered nonetheless. Curious.  
  
"Scouts? For what? They looked like the angrier, ugly cousin of the Chitauri."  
  
"That is an adequate description of them."  
  
"Why the deception? I know the others were lured away from the house. And I know they were not there for me. In fact, I think they were there for you, kitten. So, care to tell me what's up?"  
  
"No." Loki continues to walk again.  
  
"Yeah well, tough luck, I want to know. I have my suspicions but I really want you to tell me."  
  
Loki doesn't answer.  
  
"Fine, be that way. So, I think, and feel free to correct me when I'm completely off my mark here, but I think that they were after you because of whatever happened in Asgard that made your brother all twi-"  
  
"If I tell you, will you be silent?"  
  
"I couldn't possibly make promises I cannot guarantee to keep." Tony smiles. "However, I will try my best."  
  
"They came for me, you are correct, but they came for me because of my failure in New York. Another team attacked in Asgard, which is why my brother sent me here. For whatever reason, he believes I am safer here where I failed."  
  
"I don't think failure in this case is such a bad thing." Tony is still a few paces behind Loki.  
  
"I thought you were going to be quiet."  
  
"Trying to be quiet." Tony reaches Loki's side. "Try. Key operator. So, if they were scouts and they don't return, then-"  
  
"Then he will send more until they find me and return me no matter what the cost."  
  
"Sending you with the next scouting team sounds like something we should consider, then."  
  
This time, the laughter is hollow and mocking. Tony actually flinches and is glad Loki doesn't appear to have noticed.  
  
"Oh but Mr. Stark," Loki turns his head and smiles, false, his real emotions hidden by that mask Tony had tried so hard to get underneath. "I am merely a diversion to him. Something to play with while he invades your precious Earth and with it the universe."  
  
"Call me Tony."  
  
"What?" Loki misses a step and stumbles. Good. If he can keep Loki on his toes, maybe he can keep at least in pace with him. Tony doesn't dare hope to be ahead of Loki on his own.  
  
"Call me Tony. I've straw-fed you, you saved my life. I think we can be on first name basis."  
  
"Anthony."  
  
"Oh great, what are you, my grandmother?" Tony cringes and Loki smiles.  
  
"Well if that is what you prefer."  
  
"No! You are horrible and I need bleach for my brain!" So much for keeping Loki on his toes.  
  
A few more paces and Loki places his hand on his lips and gestures through the next row of trees. Sure enough, a small clearing lies ahead of them. Tony expects an entrance or a building or something, anything instead of the picturesque landscape before him.  
  
"And what are we doing he-" He stops when Loki slaps his hand over Tony's mouth and ducks them both down.  
  
There's a ripple in the clearing which distracts Tony from thinking about sticking his tongue out to lick the palm of Loki's hand... to get him to let go of course. The ripple continues until it reveals the entrance of a bunker out of which a half dozen armed men walk, armed to the teeth.Tony ducks down lower. They march past them, not particularly interested in the trees surrounding the clearing. Maybe they aren't looking for them after all. Maybe. He focuses back on the entrance which is disappearing quickly before their eyes. Forcefield perhaps. Camoflage. Looks almost like the helicarrier’s stealth mode, but without the suit, Tony has no idea.  
  
"Any ideas?" He looks at Loki because really, the guy who can zap himself through space is probably their best bet. "Can we, you know, beam back in?"  
  
There's a small pause. Hesitation. Why? "Yes."  
  
"But?" There's something else and now Tony notices that Loki is paler now, cheeks sunken in, rings under his eyes. "But you can't get us out because you spent most of your energy saving my ass."  
  
"Something like that." Loki looks at the clearing. He doesn't say anything else and crouches down.  
  
"Okay," Tony kneels beside him, "here's what I need to know: Can you get all three of us out when the time comes? Without us ending up somewhere on the moon." Loki doesn't answer and Tony watches him very closely. "Okay, kitten, talk to me. I don't know how this works. I'm gonna make you tell me, not out here while we're somewhere in the Pacific Northwest in the rain when we're about to rescue someone. I just need to know what your limita- okay, I get it, right, that's like telling your enemy your weaknesses. So just answer the first question."  
  
“The more time passes, the less I use my talents-”  
  
“More likely it'll be you get us home in one piece. Got it.” He turns and looks Loki straight in the eyes. “So, tell me why you're lying about your powers.”  
  
There is a pause. Loki just stares at Tony, eyes wide with surprise. He doesn't try to defend himself or offer an explanation. The rain is starting to intensify when he stands up and grabs Tony's arm.  
  
“Remember, you asked for this.”  
  
Before Tony can protest, he opens his eyes inside a well-lit corridor inside the facility. This time, the punch in the gut is too much and he empties the contents of his stomach (vodka, crackers, and cheese) onto the grey linoleum floor. It's cool inside, possibly cooler than outside but that may just be due to Tony's insides convulsing. He braces himself against the wall with one hand and retches until Loki appears in his peripheral vision.  
  
“Where are the guards?” He groans.  
  
“Rounds. We have ten minutes before they return.” He looks around and Tony suspects there is a pile of dead and/or unconscious guards somewhere.  
  
Somehow, he pulls himself together. This mode of transportation is so not meant for humans. Tony briefly wonders if he'll die of some form of cell mutation before the liver cirrhosis gets to him, but Loki pulls him toward a room across the hall.  
  
“Hey what's down there?” Further down the corridor, there is the only other door in this part of the bunker, underground science lab hospital, whatever the hell kind of Umbrella Corp place this was.  
  
“Have we not come here to rescue Agent Coulson?” There is something in Loki's voice that makes Tony all the more determined to find out what lies behind that door.  
  
“No security cameras,” Tony looks up. “Whatever they're doing down here can't leave any trace and I am going to find out what S.H.I.E.L.D. is trying to keep from me.”  
  
It takes him until he sees the elaborate locking mechanism to realize that he doesn't have a plan and the only reason he's even in here is the fact that God of Kittens is entertaining his whims. He needs to get into that door. There's a sinking feeling in his chest that isn't related to the nausea; and when Loki meets his eyes, Tony feels his chest constrict.  
  
“You know what's in there.” He feels his voice give out. Loki merely nods. “Show me.”  
  
“I don't think that's a good-”  
  
“Show me!” He doesn't want to be coddled, not by anyone, especially not by Loki.  


***

  
Warmth trickles down Tony's throat. He's not even sure which bottle he's grabbed. All he knows is that he's going to empty it.

  
  
 _There was a flash and something broke. A room, bigger than Phil's, but in the middle, just the same, a hospital bed. And there-_  
  
Maybe this time he'll drink until his body shuts down. He doesn't particularly care. He just wants the cavern in his chest to stop expanding, to stop hurting.  
  
 _He fell to his knees. After all this time, after all this time._  
  
 _"Pepper?" He had whispered and she had looked at him. Her perfect hair was up in a loose bun, a few strands escaping and framing her face. Her eyes looked at him, eyes he thought he'd never see again. He felt tears on his face and he didn't care. He needed to rush to her side, to hold her, to tell her everything was going to be all right. That he'd come to take her away from this place, that she could come home now. That he'd never let her go again._

  
  
The bottle slips from his hands and shatters in the sink.  Tony fumbles for it, vision blurred with tears. Everything hurts, every cell of him is in pain; the worst pain he's ever felt.

  
  
 _"I'm sorry," Pepper's voice said, "how did you get in here?" She slipped off the bed, socked feet into slippers as she tapped her ear piece. "Security alert, block C."_  
  
 _Tony looked up at her, confused. "Pepper it's me." He heard himself say, voice broken, thin. "I'm here to take you home."_  
  
 _"And where is this home supposed to be?" Tony noticed a glow underneath her pyjamas. No. "Who are you?" She had pulled a gun from somewhere, he hadn't even noticed, and pointed it at Tony._  
  
 _"It's me." His voice was barely more than a whisper as he raised his arms. "Tony. I'm your-"_  
  
 _"Look, I don't know how you got in here, or who you are, but we're going to-"_  
  
 _Her words were drowned by a sudden alarm going off. Tony felt arms wrap around him and the world punched him in the gut several times before he finally lost consciousness._

  
  
There's a sharp pain that cuts through the ache in his very bones as he grabs for the shattered bottle. Momentary relief. He sighs and looks down and sees blood gushing from his hand, swirling toward the drain of the sink, mingling with the golden brown of the whiskey. Clarity hits him for a moment as he washes any remaining glass splinters from the wound and turns to the first aid cabinet. Once he's bandaged himself, he looks for another bottle to drink. The flasks on his bar are gone. He bends down to the cupboards. They're empty. The fridge: empty. Panic spreads through Tony. The flask inside the fertility statue by the door, gone. His wine collection in the living room, gone. The decanter in the bathroom, gone.  
  
All the alcohol has disappeared. Tony tries to take a deep breath but instead he takes a dozen shallow ones. His mouth is dry, drier than he ever thought it could be. Breathing hurts his lungs. The pain in his hand just adds throbbing pain to the dull ache and the empty hollow in his chest. He can't function like this. He needs to take the edge off, needs to just a mouthful, just needs to feel the burn of alcohol soothe his system. But there isn't any fucking alcohol left in this place. Who would take his fucking alcohol. It's an unspoken rule in the house. Don't touch the liquor. They are a team, a working team, colleagues. None of that intervention bullshit. Not now, oh god, please not now.  
  
 _"Who are you?_ " rings in his ears. She didn't recognize him. She doesn't know who he is. She- the medicine cabinet! Tony runs into a side table, toppling over the 14th century Jingdezhen vase, which shatters on the floor. He doesn't care how much it cost him or that he'd been coveted by many a museum to consider exhibiting it to share such an important historical piece with the masses. He doesn't care that a shard cuts his foot and he's probably leaving a trail of blood. He nearly tears the medicine cabinet door off the hinges when he opens it. It's in there, he knows it. He just used it to disinfect his ha- oh thank fuck. He shudders with relief when he holds  the small bottle of rubbing alcohol in his hand. With shaking hands, he unscrews the top and goes to pound it back like a shot.  
  
"What are you-" Someone rips the bottle from his mouth and hands. "Don't!"  
  
Tony expects Bruce or Steve to stand in front of him, throwing the disinfectant bottle into the sink with the rest of the mess. However, it is Loki who stands there and slowly screws the bottle shut, puts it back into the medicine cabinet and closes it. Not once does he take his eyes off Tony.  
  
"So what," Tony's words are a little slurred, "you think you can just come here and-"  
  
"Prevent you from doing something you would regret the moment you were to finish the bottle?"  
  
"I can't breathe! I can't close my eyes! It's all I can hear!" Is he really having a breakdown in front of Loki of all people? He needs to pull himself together, but the moment he takes a deep breath he can feel the pain everywhere again. Loki of all people, of all gods, powers. He remembers Loki touching Pepper's forehead from behind and whispering in her ear until she slumped in his arms. Tony looks him in the eye. "Fix it. Make it go away."  
  
The surprise in Loki's eyes is genuine, so is the concern and the... pain? "You do not truly wish for me to do that."  
  
"Yes. I do. Make it go away."  
  
"I cannot."  
  
"You can! You made her forget we were there! I saw you!"  
  
"I won't, then." He means it. He fucking means it. Tony attacks him with a shout for Jarvis to deploy his suit. Loki takes the punches and Jarvis never deploys the suit.  
  
"Make it stop!"  
  
The blow should have broken Loki's nose, but there it still was, fucking pristine and perfectly straight. He strikes another blow but Loki doesn't even bruise. Tony can hear his own screams deteriorate. He doesn't want to, but he can't stop it, can't keep the sobs from escaping his throat, can't stop the tears from flowing from his eyes. He can feel Loki shift closer.  
  
"Don't." He doesn't want comfort, especially not from Loki who simply wraps his arms around Tony and holds him tight. "Please." Tony whimpers and clutches at Loki's shirt.  
  
"No." Loki says softly and holds him tighter. It's finite, the last word he will have on it.  
  
 _No._  
  
Tony wants to throw himself into the abyss opening underneath him, wants to let himself go into nothingness. But he can't, he can't because Loki's arms keep holding him like he gives a fuck. All he can do is clutch at Loki's shirt and cry against his shoulder like he's a fucking child. He cries until he feels empty, numb, and all he wants to do is sleep. This Loki grants him and to Tony's relief he doesn't carry him to his room. He does steady him when he sways and keeps him from walking into walls.  
  
"Where is ever'one else?"  
  
"Asleep or out patrolling."  
  
"An' they left you to babysit the alcoholic."  
  
"Actually, I volunteered."  
  
Tony's eyes widen with surprise and as much as he tries to remember what happened when they returned, there is nothing. Do the others know about Loki and his powers? If they don't, they will the moment Phil wakes up. Why would they let Loki be in charge of keeping Tony safe?  
  
"Because, Anthony," Loki opens the door to Tony's room, "I know a little bit about the kind of pain you feel right now."  
  
Tony wants to dismiss Loki's claim. Like hell does he know what it feels like to lose... everything, everyone he's ever loved. And Tony feels like an asshole. Of course he does. Of course he knows. Tony's seen it in his eyes, in the way he swigged back that drink, in the way he let himself be tortured by S.H.I.E.L.D., in the way he carries himself, constantly hidden behind a mask he's crafted so carefully. In the way he tried to prevent Tony from getting into that room...  
  
"You knew." Tony looks at him. "You knew she was there like you knew Phil was there. That's what you meant when you said Phil wasn't your most powerful piece of information." Loki doesn't meet his eyes. "What else?"  
  
"She's not the person you... loved. When I took those memories, there- a person is the sum of their memories in all its intricacies. You remember everything even if you cannot recall it. It's a web but unlike a spider's web there is no order. Human brains have a penchant to haphazardly throw memories into the nearest cell available. Her memories are sorted like a spider's web, carefully constructed, a work of art really. Miss Potts, how you knew her,  she really did die in that building collapse. I am sorry."  
  
"No, no, it's fine, I mean until today I-" He breaks off and takes a breath, trying to quietly work through the pain. "Did you take all the alcohol?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"Why?" Maybe if he can go back to concentrating his rage on Loki, maybe then he'll feel better.  
  
"I know you to be able to recover from a single bottle of malt liquor, not several."  
  
"Why do you care?" Yeah, the rage thing was working. Loki took his liquor, all of it. Loki is playing the martyr card. Loki is the asshole who is trying to fucking shelter him from the goddamned world because he think Tony's too weak to handle it. "Why do you stay here and play my nanny when you've got your fucking powers? Why don't you just go?"  
  
"You asked me to stay."

  
 _The pain was nearly unbearable when Tony woke up again, in his clothes on top of the covers of his bed. Phil, he thought to himself and stumbled to the door where he had nearly crashed into Loki. He'd just emptied the bottle in his room and hey, he was still conscious and in pain. The single malt on top of bar would dull the rest. Probably._  
  
 _"Agent Coulson is sleeping in one of the empty guest rooms." Loki informed him, a fucking look of concern in his face._  
  
 _"Good, you can fuck off then."_  
  
 _"I beg your pardon?" Loki looked like he'd been struck._  
  
 _"You've fulfilled your debt, redemption, whatever the fuck it is you're looking for. You can go now." Tony waved in the general direction of what he hoped was the door, or maybe the windows. He didn't really care..._  
  
 _"Very well." ...until Loki made that face and turned to leave. Fuck._  
  
 _"Wait!" Tony grabbed his arm. "I'm a drunk asshole. I'm sorry."_  
  
 _"Do you want me to stay or leave?" The look of confusion on Loki's face almost made Tony chuckle, but then he closed the distance between them and pulled Loki close._  
  
 _"Stay. Please." He said. "You're the only thing I have left."_  
  
 _There wasn't a single moment when he had decided to kiss Loki. He just leaned into him and kissed him, probably quite sloppy considering his blood alcohol at the moment. It wasn't romance or love or anything, perhaps desperation, he wasn't sure. It was a kiss and Loki didn't pull back or throw Tony through the nearest wall. No, Loki, he returned the kiss until Tony stumbled backwards. He'd kissed Loki. He'd made out in the hallway with the enemy. Tony felt sick as he pushed past Loki toward the bar._

 

"I kissed you." He groans and runs a hand over his face. It's still hard to think clearly.  
  
"You did." Loki is impossible to read all of a sudden.  
  
"I just- Pepper, I thought she was dead and she is but someone looks just like her and-" He points at Loki. "You kissed back."  
  
Loki doesn't reply right away, just looks at Tony for a while. What's he going to say? 'No, Anthony, you imagined things' or 'not by choice' or-  
  
"I wanted to." That stops Tony in his tracks. He looks at Loki, who appears patient. Patient might be bad. He probably should say something now before kitten feels rejected and flays Tony for fun like he's threatened so many times before. Then again, Loki hasn't flayed him yet and it's been a very long time since he last threatened. And that kiss really was mostly drunken slobbering- At one point, his life became so complicated, it led him to this corridor where he's standing right now, grieving a woman he'd thought dead but wasn't but now was someone else... with a megalomanic god of kittens who helped him free Phil from capture and wanted to kiss him.  
  
"I'm sorry that was a shitty first kiss." All right, his brain's apparently clocked out for the day and is just going with whatever the fuck happens next. Can't be worse than kissing your enemy prisoner or anything. He takes Loki's hand. "I'm almost sober now. We could... if you still want to..." Or it could be. Tony's done thinking when Loki smiles, almost fucking coy, like that's not a complete turn-on.  
  
He gently wraps his hand around the back of Loki's neck and pulls him down closer. Pauses to look at him for a moment to see if it's still okay. Loki looks soft, eyes half closed, completely relaxed and if Loki can let go like that Tony can, too. He kisses the corner of Loki's mouth first because he's wanted to and now he can, so he does. And when Loki's breath hitches that goes straight... everywhere. Tony wants to slam him against the wall and just claim his mouth but he promised better this time. So he brushes Loki's hair from his face and kisses him, gentle, soft, like he means to be tender (and maybe he does).  
  
The soft, barely audible noise from Loki's throat is all he needs to continue. They're both so fucking touch starved, wound so fucking tight no one else can get close. No one but each other and when Loki wraps his arms around Tony he needs to touch, needs to feel another person's warmth, needs to feel Loki's warmth, Loki's skin, Loki close. He unbuttons carefully for the first three buttons before he tears at the shirt so he can run his hands over Loki's chest. He doesn't want to break the kiss but he needs to know what happens when- Loki moans, and not quietly, when Tony bites his neck.  
  
"Fuck, kitten, you're so hot," he kisses and bites a trail down Loki's neck, "what am I gonna do with you?"  
  
The button on Loki's pants comes off easily. He slides down the zipper and moves to kneel on the floor but Loki catches him by the elbow, and pushes him against the wall. There's height difference and it becomes obvious when Tony grinds himself against Loki's thigh. He makes a displeased noise and Loki smiles down on him.  
  
"Don't even, I'm not short." He's not-pouting, only okay maybe a little, until Loki rolls his eyes, grabs his ass, and lifts him off the ground and pins him against the wall.  
  
"Is this what you meant to do?" He rolls his hips and fuck yeah that's exactly what Tony meant to do.  He moans and bucks against Loki who claims his mouth with another kiss and rocks his hips against Tony, deft fingers making quick work of the buttons on Tony's cargo pants. Fuck yeah. Tony bangs his head off the wall when Loki's hand wraps around his dick. Loki pauses and looks at him but Tony bucks into his hand.  
  
"Stop now I swear, I'm gonna-" His sentence deteriorates into a moan and then his brain just rides the pleasure, the friction, the warmth of Loki's hand, the near-desperate kisses and soft moans. Tony's panting when he feels a familiar white heat pull together in his belly and back. He's so, so fucking close and Loki, Loki fucking rests his forehead against Tony's and looks him in the eyes just as he pushes Tony over the edge with a swipe of this thumb and a lick of his lip.  
  
Tony sees white, closes his eyes, and is pretty certain he's banged his head off the wall again when he feels his thighs quiver around Loki's hips as he comes. And Loki, Loki's still so close, apparently taking in the scenery because when Tony opens his eyes again, he's still right there, perfectly close for Tony to just tilt his head and kiss him.  
  
"Your turn, kitten." He smiles, panting, and slides his hand into Loki's trousers and- "Wow, that's just, not gonna lie, I'm feeling a little inadequate right now."  
  
"Shut up, Stark." Loki chuckles and kisses him again, hips bucking up against Tony who takes the hint and tightens his fist around Loki's cock.  
  
There's suddenly pain where there shouldn't be and Tony's falling, nope, not metaphorically. He hits the ground hard as Loki falls to his knees and then is blasted down the corridor and into the wall at the end.  
  
"Don't worry, boss." Phil is holding a handgun that looks like it's on fire, aimed at the hole in the wall. Did the man put on a suit before 'saving' Tony's ass?  
  
"It's not what it looked like!" Huh, normally he says that when he doesn't want people thinking there was sex. "He didn't attack me." Phil looks at him with a frown.  
  
"Do you need me to use Agent Romanoff's cognitive recalibration technique to break whatever spell he has you under?"  
  
"I'm not under any spell."  
  
"That's not what that looked like." He narrows his eyes.  
  
"I promise. And also," he steps beside Phil and is really fucking glad Loki's put his pants back into a semi-presentable state, no come stains, oh good."I thought you were dead for a very long time... so..." He hugs Phil tight. There's a moment of struggle and protest coming from the man, but Tony doesn't care. Someone he thought was dead made it back. Phil isn't dead. He's alive and well and shooting the shit out of who he thinks is a bad guy. Tony loves Phil like he's family and he's only just realized.  
  
"Okay," Phil eventually extracts himself from the embrace. "That's enough right now. I have questions and today, none of them will include why what I just saw happened. I won't ask, you won't tell me."  
  
"Deal." Tony smiles. "I'd offer you a drink but Loki decided to-"  
  
"Not asking." He holsters the gun. From the hole in the wall there's a groan. "You better move slowly, or I'll use Betty again and you'll be the only one regretting it."  
  
Briefly, Tony wonders if Loki is going to be all right but when he can see legs and Loki's hand flipping Phil off, he sighs relieved. Quietly, he promises he'll make it up to Loki when he's done briefing Phil on what's happened, and everyone else on Phil being alive. He glances at the clock. Time for coffee and breakfast.  
  
"Come on Agent, let's heat up some leftover pizza for breakfast." That seems to take Phil's attention away from Loki slowly extracting himself from the wall and glaring as he slinks to his ce- room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 7/9, we're almost at the end! *whimper*
> 
> Initially, I had planned this to be two chapters, but it needed to be told in one.


	8. My Morning Star

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stark Tower: temporarily under construction

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so sorry for the lateness, school work and muses didn't mix well this week

By the time Tony excuses himself from the Avengers huddle that's lasted for the past, oh god, ten hours, he's sore, stiff and in need of a fucking drink. He supposes he's got to pare that down a bit after that... incident. Phil has not mentioned how he found Tony and Loki in the corridor and Tony appreciates that. He even overlooks when Phil side-eyes his every step from the meeting around the kitchen table back to the corridors leading to the guest rooms. He knocks on Loki's room, but there's no reply. The door opens and Loki isn't there. Tony's stomach drops a bit. Maybe getting blasted was the last straw and Loki has packed up and fucked off finally.  
  
Or he's sprawled out on Tony's over-sized king bed instead of squeezing himself onto a tiny chaise lounge.  He's shirtless in very soft looking pyjama bottoms, hunter green, of course. Tony senses a theme here and is going to make it his personal mission to get Loki to wear mauve.  
  
"Hey," Loki opens his eyes a crack, "finished talking about where you're going to chain me up next? A vat of acid perhaps?"  
  
"I- don't need to know if that's actually happened to you right now." Tony sits on the edge of the bed and yeah, there's a giant fucking elephant in the room. "Are you hungry?"  
  
"Am I allowed to eat?" Loki scoffs. "It might be too dangerous to feed me."  
  
"Why- we didn't talk about chaining you up anywhere or keeping you a prisoner or starving you to death." He looks at Loki for a while. "Are you cranky because you're hung- oh no, I get it." Tony smirks. "I know why you're cranky."  
  
"I am certainly not cranky." Loki turns away from Tony, a big red mark still taking up most of his back.  
  
"Does it hurt?" Tony touches just above the mark.  
  
"Not particularly."  
  
"Okay," Tony kisses the edge of the mark and along Loki's ribs. "I'm sorry we were interrupted."  
  
"It is fine." Loki runs a hand through Tony's hair but before Tony can protest that it is in fact not fine, he continues: "You are here now."  
  
"I can work with that." He smiles and slides a hand into Loki’s waistband.  
  
When Loki comes arching his shoulders off the bed a little while later, Tony strokes him through it, mouth latching on to Loki's neck. Doesn't matter that it won't show, thoughts count. And when Loki collapses back onto the bed, spent, sated, Tony smiles and reaches for tissues on the nightstand to clean his hand and Loki's stomach.  
  
"That was-"  
  
"Get dressed, kids."  The door flies open and Phil stands there, armed to the teeth. “Time to bail."  
  
"You're too late." Loki looks almost triumphant as he pulls up his bottoms and Tony wants to kiss him for it, but he fears it would end with Loki through the wall again.  
  
"What's going on?" Tony looks at Phil.  
  
"Fury's been compromised, gotta scram. They're on their way here now. Time to suit up." Phil looks at Loki, hand on the holster containing 'Betty'. "You too, Princess. Unless of course, you're bored with us and want to snap yourself somewhere more comfortable. I hear hell is nice this time of year."  
  
"So much hostility." Loki sits up but doesn't move otherwise. "You do hold a grudge, Agent Coulson." The sceptre appears beside Loki, and Phil draws at the first glimpse of it.  
  
"Stop, stop, stop!" Tony stands on the bed between a still lounging Loki and a very trigger-happy Phil.  
  
From the corner of his eye, Tony sees the gem glowing a deep green, not blue, but that's all the pondering he allows himself as he jumps off the bed. Nothing kills a forming hardon like pointing guns.  
  
"You," he points at Phil. "Stand down." He turns to look at Loki. "And you? No! We don't have time for this, we have to go!"  
  
"Do you even know your destination, your reasons?" Loki stretches out on the bed. "Or do you blindly follow the words of a S.H.I.E.L.D. agent?"  
  
Tony closes his eyes and tilts his head to the side. Everything is fickle. Everything he knows is wrong. His rough day is turning into a rough series of days. He really doesn't want them to turn into a rough week or a rough really way too fucking long time. Loki is temptation and he knows it, sprawled out on the bed, half naked. Tony wants to crawl back on the bed fuck that smirk off Loki's face, but there is too much at stake.  
  
"My friends need me," he says simply, "so, I'm going. You do what you need to, Loki, but if Phil, whom you tried to murder in cold blood, extends an invitation to come with us? You better well believe that it's genuine." He turns and steps toward the door, a soft smile on his lips when he hears Loki let out a long-suffering sigh and get off the bed.  
  
There is something very uncomfortable about sitting in the Quinjet with Loki unchained. Well, at least it is for everyone else. Tony is perfectly comfortable with a flask of bourbon (the alcohol in his house had reappeared finally), armour safely stored beside him in its travel container.  
  
“So, where are we going?” It would be nice to know after he’s given that whole ‘my friends need me’ spiel.  
  
“Sorry Stark,” Steve looks up from his tablet device, “that’s classified.”  
  
The thing about Steve is that he is very easy to read. His overgrown sense of justice and righteousness make it hard for him to hide his feelings. When he’s annoyed, Steve grinds his teeth, and when he’s angry, he calls Tony ‘Stark’, ‘Mr. Stark’ when he’s really pissed off. So, Tony has a bit to go still.  
  
“We have the same level of clearance, Cap, I know, I hacked into your file numerous times.” He smiles at Steve.  
  
“That was before you were compromised.” Okay, boy wants to play dirty.  
  
“Agent, you said you wouldn’t kiss and tell!” He looks at Phil, who shrugs.  
  
“He didn’t have to say anything.” Steve rolls his eyes. “I’ve known you long enough to know what your ‘just got laid’ face looks like. Since none of us had the misfortune, no one else was in the Tower, well that left only one.”  
  
“First of all ‘misfortune’? Ouch, Steve, ouch.” Tony puts his hand on his heart. He’s not so much feigning hurt as he is feeling a little betrayed. While they’ve had their differences, he and Steve are friends. “Second of all, did you stop to consider that it may have just been an exceptionally awesome session of self-pleasure?” ‘Cause really, how is it any of his business what Tony does with whom in his time off?  
  
“That’s a different face.” Bruce pipes up. He looks bemused more than anything and Tony could hug him for it.  
  
“I’m not sure I feel comfortable that you can tell the difference between the two.” But all Bruce does is adjust his glasses with a suppressed smirk. So much for support from the cavalry.  
  
“Him of all people?” Now, Steve looks pissed. “What the hell were you thinking? He’s the-”  
  
“Now, now ‘Captain’ Rogers,” Loki leans back in his seat and lets his legs fall open obscenely wide. “If you want to join in on all the fun, all you have to do is ask.” He winks at Steve and shifts his hips, such a miniscule movement, such a lewd suggestion. Bruce feigns a cough over his laughing snort and Tony thinks he might be in love. However, Steve, while slightly blushed, is too angry to let mind games get in his way.  
  
“He’s the enemy!” He gets up from his seat. “He’s a prisoner of war!”  
  
“Are you seriously chastising me like a fucking child?” Tony stands. “And even if it isn’t coming from some kind of overinflated sense of righteousness, why is he here? Why am I here? If you really, truly think that I have been compromised, why am I here? Why am I not being debriefed, quarantined, interrogated or whatever the hell your S.H.I.E.L.D. buddies are up to these days?”  
  
“Okay children!” Clint shouts from the cockpit. “Sit down and play nice before I spin this bird out of control to see how much you’ll argue while you’re bouncing off the walls.”  
  
“Sorry, mom!” Tony grins and Clint rolls his eyes.  
  
“He’s right.” Bruce gently tugs on Tony’s arm. “Come on, relax, both of you.”  
  
“He’s doing this.” Steve sits down, looking at Loki. If Tony didn’t know better, he’d think Steve is jealous or hurt or something. “He’s done it before. He’s pitting us against each other.”  
  
The silence that falls over the jet is uncomfortable, yet Tony is glad that Loki is choosing to pick his battles and isn’t antagonizing Steve any further. He takes a swig from his flask, the burn of the bourbon doing nothing to ease his mind. It’s not that he didn’t want them to know, it’s more that he didn’t want to have to tell them. He didn’t want to think about what happened, why, whatever, it doesn’t fucking matter, it’s none of their business.  
  
“We don’t know where we are going.” Bruce starts after a while and when Steve opens his mouth to protest, Bruce shakes his head. “S.H.I.E.L.D. has been compromised. We don’t know the details. Last we heard, a contingent of soldiers was sent to retrieve you and crazy-pants over there. Agent Hill managed to contact, to warn us, but now, we’re not sure where she is. All we know is she’s on the run with an artefact that she says can absolutely not fall into enemy hands.”  
  
“Fury?”  
  
“We don’t know.” Steve’s voice is quiet. “The helicarrier was compromised and-”  
  
“Nick would crash it into the ocean before he sees it fall into enemy hands.”  
  
Steve nods and a soft ping in Tony’s breast pocket tells him Jarvis has finished locking down the Tower and transferred control to his mobile device. At least something in Tony’s life is secure and safe. Still, he worries about Jarvis. It’s silly because he’s technically... not a person, but did it matter really? Before Tony can lose himself in existentialist thought Loki clears his throat.  
  
“Do you know the nature of the artefact Agent Hill carries?”  
  
“Like we’re going to-” Steve starts but he’s lost the battle. He sighs. “From what I understand, a glove of some kind.”  
  
Loki blanches and that really, really makes Tony uncomfortable.  
  
“Why do you trust him?” He hears Steve whispers quietly to Bruce. Not like they can’t hear, the Quinjet isn’t exactly large.  
  
“He saved Tony’s life. Twice. If the first one was a scheme, I know the second one wasn’t.”  
  
Twice. Tony looks up with surprise. Once was after the attack. Bruce is right, could have been a scheme. The second time... Tony looks at the ground when he remembers his hands gripping the bottle of isopropanol. He feels cold. It hadn’t just been him and Loki. Bruce had been there. Bruce had seen. For the first time since Tony can remember, he feels ashamed when he can feel the flask heavy in the pocket of his blazer.  
  
“The gauntlet,” Loki says after a long silence, still pale, voice unsteady. “My brother is a fool bringing it here.  He gets up from his seat and walks to join Natasha and Clint in the cockpit of the jet. To no one’s surprise, he’s greeted by the barrel of Natasha’s gun.  
  
“Your weapon cannot kill me,” Loki says, calm, collected, but he is raising his hands in the air.  
  
“Perhaps not.” She raises an eyebrow. “But at this range, it’ll sting like hell.”  
  
“All right.” He takes a step back. “I wanted to tell you I can find your missing agent if you will allow me.”  
  
“Why are you helping-” She pauses and lowers the gun “You’re afraid. You are scared of what is coming for that artefact.”  
  
“And if I am scared, Miss Romanoff,” Loki smiles, “you should be quivering in your boots.”  
  
There is a sudden lurch in Tony’s stomach and oh no, he knows that feeling as the interior of the Quinjet fades into grey, then white. He really hates travelling this way. When the world rematerializes, Tony is on his knees in the sand; the insides of his guts are in knots, evil jumping and twisting knots. Beside him, he can hear Clint retching. Somewhere in the blurry periphery of his vision he can see Steve leaning against a palm tree. He can’t see Bruce from his vantage poi- Palm tree? Tony can hear crashing waves when Natasha offers her hand to help him up. Why doesn’t she look like she’s been dragged through hell? Where the fuck are they?  
  
“Curious,” he hears not far beside him. Loki is looking at the overcast sky with a frown.  
  
“Lost your map?” Tony jokes through the nausea.  
  
“You.” Natasha stalks over to Loki. “What the hell did you do?” She doesn’t need to draw her gun; Phil and Clint have their weapons trained on Loki, who looks a little pale: something is off.  
  
“I meant,” he swallows, “I meant to bring us to the location of the gauntlet.”  
  
“You are lying.”  
  
“I assure you.” Loki stands still. “I am not.” He looks confused and sniffles for a moment and when his hand touches his nose, blood trickles down over his lips and chin.  
  
“Hey, you okay?” Tony steps between him and Natasha.  
  
“I feel-” Loki collapses onto the sand in front of Tony before he can finish his sentence.  
  
“That’s just great.” Clint relaxes his bow. “Only guy with a map and he faints at the sight of his own blood.”  
  
“We don’t need a map.” Tony kneels beside Loki and looks inland. “I know exactly where we are.”  
  
“Care to share with the group?” Steve stands near them, still apprehensive, Tony can tell.  
  
“I sometimes live here.” It’s really a miracle they are where they are; and really, once Loki comes to, Tony wants to know how they got here. To Tony’s private island mansion. That no one but Pepper and Jarvis knew about. Accessible only by boat or helicopter... and now teleported Quinjet.  He gets a lot of blank faces from the group, so he opens his mouth to explain again when Bruce, holding up tattered pants (should have worn the nano-fibre), joins them.  
  
“Sorry guys, the big guy didn’t like that at all. Had to take him for a run around the island.” He looks up to the house. “Hey I know where we are, that’s your secret beach house, isn’t it?”  
  
“Apparently not as secret as I wanted it to be.” Tony shakes his head and vows to have a conversation with Jarvis when they get inside, hoping that the AI transferred a copy of himself here before the lockdown. Just in case.  
  
“What happened?” Bruce looks down at Loki. “Did he-”  
  
“Faint at the sight of his own blood?” Clint smiles. “Yeah.”  
  
“I don’t think that’s quite what happened.” Tony gets up and tosses Bruce his mobile device. “That’ll get you inside.”  
  
“Where are you going?”  
  
“Getting the suit,” he says with a shrug. “Didn’t think anyone would want to help carry him in.”  
  
The last thing Tony expects is Steve to pat him on the back, kneel down beside Loki and pick him up to throw him over his shoulder like he weighs nothing. Steve carries Loki up to the house without a word. It’s not a lavish mansion, not like Malibu anyhow. Sure, it’s sleek and white and glass, but in comparison, it is almost demure, roof covered in grasses. Tony remembers when he bought the house. An impulse buy of course, but since the house proved itself as a perfect secret lab away from everything. That and the view during sex in the bedroom was fantastic. When Jarvis’ voice greets them, Tony lets out a relieved sigh.  
  
“Hey,” Tony catches Steve’s arm when he leaves the bedroom, Loki safely deposited on the bed. “Thank you.”  
  
“We’re friends.” Steve says and puts a hand on Tony’s shoulder. “Do you really care fo-”  
  
“Nope,” he ushers Steve toward the stairs, “not having this conversation right now.”  
  
“So you do.” Steve smirks, salutes, and walks down the stairs.  
  
“Go be captainly, I’ll be right there.”  
  
Rain is pouring outside. The skies are dark. Wind is blowing. No one will look for them here in this weather. At least that’s what Tony needs to tell himself so he doesn’t immediately reach for his flask. Loki is on the bed, still and pale. There is a wet washcloth on the bedside table. Steve cleaned the blood off Loki’s face.  
  
“Hey kitten,” Tony says as he sits down on the bed and puts a hand on Loki’s calf. He’s pale but not the sickly pallid he was outside when he collapsed. It’s one thing to transport himself or another person, Tony thinks. It’s another to transport seven of them and a Quinjet. Loki stirs softly, breaths even and long. Asleep. Asleep is good. Tony smiles and pats Loki’s leg and listens to the rain for a while.  
  
“Guess what, guys.” He walks into the dining room-kitchen open concept area. “I know how we can find Agent Hill.”  
  
Everyone stares at him. Especially Maria Hill. Well that’s just great. Does everyone know about this place? While she looks like she’s been put through the ringer, she doesn’t look wet or particularly on the run at this very moment. In fact, she is sitting at the dining table with a cup of coffee wearing one of Tony’s shirts and his jeans looking a whole lot like she’s made herself at home.  
  
“Okay,” he takes a breath, “how many of you knew she’s been here all along?”  
  
“They didn’t. Jarvis sent me encrypted coordinates, I almost missed it. The helicopter barely made it on a full tank.”  
  
“Jarvis?”  
  
“I’m terribly sorry but time was of the essence and you were... occupied.”  
  


“Yeah yeah yeah, I get it.” He goes to pour himself some coffee. “You’re all right Agent Hill?” Up close, she looks more beat up, split lip, cuts and contusions on her cheek and knuckles.  
  
“Nothing a good stiff drink and some antiseptic can’t fix.”  
  
“And the other thing?”  
  
“Safely stowed away in your labs.”  
  
“Jarvis! You let her into my labs! That’s daddy’s sanctuary!”  
  
“I am terribly sorry.” Jarvis’ voice is flat and not at all sorry.  
  
It’s finally Steve who settles things down, herds the proverbial cats and sits them down around the dining room table. Now, Tony wishes he had the foresight a year ago to get a round table. The jokes he would be able to make. Instead, he sits down, wedged between Bruce and Clint opposite of Steve who, of course, doesn’t appreciate that he is flanked by the two most beautiful and most badass women Tony has ever encountered.  
  
Not the time and place right now, he has to remind himself when Steve starts to talk. It’s important talk, but Tony hasn’t had breakfast or slept in two days (passed out drunk doesn’t count). Discussing strategies on how to gather intelligence: very important. He tries to ignore the growl in his stomach. Next up: how to get in contact with other agents. Tony’s eyes droop as he tries to discreetly reach for his coffee.  What happens is Tony nodding off mid-reach, startling awake when he touches the cup, and in one fell flail sends it flying off the table, shattering where it lands.  
  
“Time for a break!” Natasha gets up, a little too eager to get away.  
  
The coffee was cold, and bitter, tasted mildly burnt anyway. To be fair, it was made with a machine probably bought from a box-shaped store, most definitely in the bargain section. The house had been a work in progress after all. He'd bought it because Pepper had suggested a pet project when he needed to get away.  He'd bought the place for a bargain in a bankruptcy sale. Bankers. He undershot the asking price by half. Even in Tony's weapons manufacturing day, people had always hated bankers more. Did nothing to make their fortunes but play with people's livelihoo-  
  
"Hey, Stark!" Clint shoves a warm cup of coffee under his nose. "You look like shit."  
  
Tony looks up, some witty retort on his tongue but he bites it down when he sees Clint's face, sunken in, dark circles, clutching a cup of coffee in his other hand. Natasha hides it better, but he notices a slight shake in her wrist when she picks up her mug. Steve is quietly talking to Phil in the corner of the kitchen, while Bruce is sitting on the counter staring off into space. They all look like shit. They haven't slept. They haven't eaten. There has been no certainty, no comfort, and the only two people able to help them make any sort of progress on what's going on are either passed out upstairs or gone to who knows where to fight their own battles.  
  
"Okay everyone." Steve must have finished his talk and come back to the dining room. "We can't keep going like this."  
  
Well, Steve probably could, engineered super soldier and all. Fortunately, the man's a team fucking player and knows them well. They all have their limits. Tony's sure that the Bruce-Hulk duo probably does, too, but that's not going to get tested any time soon. He feels like he should be knocking in wood or something.    
  
"Tony."  
  
"That's my name." Tony whirls around.  
  
"Is there any food in the house? And don't say the fridge. All that's in there is a shrivelled up lime, a half-empty bottle of tequila and soda crackers... why do you keep those in the fridge?"  
  
"Freezer. I don't cook." He simply says and makes himself walk into the kitchen. The freezer is actually a several-drawer system which runs along under the counter tops of the far back of the kitchen. He doesn't cook, but that doesn't mean he can't enjoy the pleasures of an excellent meal. He opens one of the drawers and it is filled with a massive variety of take out foods, even from places that don't do take out. Ever. Except for Tony Stark. "Usually keep enough for a couple of months, but I haven't been here since... anyway, there's food. Yay!" He pulls out the first container he sees and pops it in the microwave (almost as good as the one at the Penthouse but not quite).  
  
In minutes, the smell of various foods permeates the house. They eat. In silence. When Tony looks up from his plate, they’re sitting together at the table. Eating. Quietly. Well, shit. Here they are, he checks his watch, just in time to have family dinner... or breakfast... or whatever hell time of day it was, he's already forgotten again. Great. Instead of making some sort of excuse and flopping on the couch, he stays. They're all tired. None of them are thinking of this as some sort of domestic bonding thing. However, when their most immediate hunger is sated, conversation begins to pop up. It's mostly related to the gauntlet and the S.H.I.E.L.D. takeover, but it's enough to make Tony uncomfortable and he excuses himself.  
  
When he goes upstairs with a plate of food, his main motif is to see if Loki is awake. He's not worried. Not at all. Nope. He just wants to know what the hell happened. And he wants to take a look at the gauntlet, which he doesn't want without more hands present: Loki for the gauntlet and Bruce for the science. Steve can be all Major Boyscout and arrange a rescue/take-back-S.H.I.E.L.D. mission with the others.  
  
Slowly, he opens the door to the bedroom. He's glad the master suite was closest to the entrance, otherwise he'd probably have to explain to himself why he'd told Steve to put Loki here. Loki, who is still lying on the bed, sleeping. However, he's now entangled himself in the blankets and sheets, sprawled out and hogging all the pillows. That's a good sign, Tony thinks.  
  
"Hey Princess," he says as he places the food on the bedside table. "Beauty sleep is over, time to get up."  
  
"No," is Loki's simple reply before he pulls the covers higher.  
  
"I brought you food."  
  
"Very well done, servant. Now leave me be."  
  
Tony had not pegged Loki to be cranky in the mornings. In fact, he'd half expected Loki to be one of those cheery morning people just to fuck with everyone's head. Or maybe he just needs the right incentive. Tony slides a hand over Loki's exposed calf and Loki doesn't withdraw under the blankets.  
  
"Come on," Tony lets his fingers trail over Loki's ankle and there's a soft shiver under the covers. Feet. Nice. "Food, a shower, and then we'll figure out why a) you started spontaneously bleeding and b) what the hell this Mitten of Fate has to do with whatever the fuck happened at S.H.I.E.L.D., deal?"  
  
There is no reply.  
  
"Fine. You be that way, but remember, you could have stopped this by getting up."  
  
Tony lightly traces his fingers over the sole of Loki's foot. Unfortunately, as it turns out, 'practically gods' aren't ticklish, at least not their feet. That's all right, Tony rolls with the punches, picks up Loki's foot. He places soft kisses on the ankle before dragging his tongue along the arch. Surprisingly, he doesn't taste like day-old boot. He tastes freshly washed, like Tony's favourite soap. Bastard snuck a shower already and has been waiting for Tony to get his ass upstairs.  
  
"Anthony...," Loki's voice is breathy and shit, Tony likes that and nips the ball of Loki's toe. There's a soft gasp and Tony likes that, too.  
  
"Too many blankets." He decides and pulls the covers off. Oh. Loki's sprawled out naked and, fuck, hard as rock, leaking against his hip.  
  
"Christ," Tony swallows, "were you- were you waiting for me?"  
  
The nod Loki gives him is slow, deliberate, eyes half closed, lips parted, wet. He's the fucking picture of sex right now. After the day, Tony's had, after the fucking mess of a day he's had, all he should want is to crawl into bed and sleep. Well, he does want to crawl into bed, but sleeping? Isn't going to happen any time soon. Damn it, he thinks when his dick swells and the rest of his brain slowly turns off. Loki. That's all he wants right now. That's all he cares about right now. He hurries to pull his shirt over his head.  
  
"Haven't showered yet," he informs Loki because filthy, dirty sex usually is only fun when both parties are at the same dirt level.  
  
"Don't care." Loki sits up, grabs Tony by the wrists and pulls him into a fierce, needy kiss.  
  
Tony shouldn't feel this desperate, this compulsive need to be close to Loki, but he does and he throws care and warning to the wind. Kissing Loki is sickly sweet, heady, and all-consuming and Tony wants more, wants it all, pulls at Loki's hair to tilt his head back and scrapes his teeth along the long, pale neck.  The marks he leaves fade in moments, but it doesn't matter. He smiles and pushes Loki gently onto his back.  
  
"I'll take care of you."  
  
Loki doesn't protest, instead settles down on his elbows and watches Tony kiss trails along his chest. By the time Tony bites just above his nipple, they're both hard as rock. When Tony grinds their dicks together through the fabric of his pants, Loki moans and sits up to run his hands down Tony's back. So touch-starved, they both are, Tony leans into the touch as he kisses a trail down Loki's stomach.  
  
"Anthony," Loki squirms beneath him.  
  
"Shut up, kitten." Tony chuckles. "I know what I'm doing."  
  
The moaning yelp that comes from Loki's lips when Tony bites the inside of his thigh makes Tony smile. He kisses the base of Loki's cock with a flick of tongue and the noises he hears are a good sign. So, he continues, teasing, smiling when Loki swears under his breath. He looks up at Loki, nearly blissed out, eyes half closed, head tilted to the side, hair in his face.  
  
When Loki catches his gaze, Tony smiles and takes him deep into his mouth. Loki keeps his eyes on him and Tony ever so slowly begins to move. When Loki reaches for his hand, the sheer intimacy of such a small gesture stirs something inside Tony and he squeezes Loki's hand. He closes his eyes and gets lost in the movement, Loki's scent, and taste, his soft moans which soon turn into cries of pleasure. And Tony doesn't stop, he isn't going to stop, not until- The moment when Loki's hand nearly crushes his when he arches his shoulders off the bed, thighs trembling, there's something in that moment Tony can't explain with words or even thoughts. Carefully, he pulls away and, mindful of Loki still shaking beneath him, he crawls and kisses him, slow and languid, smiling into the kiss when Loki moans as he tastes himself on Tony's tongue.  
  
"My turn." Loki smirks into the kiss and breaks the moment before he flips Tony onto the bed with ease.  
  
Things go down almost embarrassingly short and dirty before Tony falls back onto the sheets panting. Loki stretches out alongside him and runs a hand idly over Tony’s chest. The touch is soothing and Tony’s eyes feel heavy and maybe if he just closes them for a moment... Loki smiles at him, still tracing patterns on his skin. Everything is heavy and soft as Tony feels the tension leave his body.  
  
“Please,” Tony whispers, tongue heavy, “stay.”  
  
Loki's kiss is tender in ways Tony never expected it to be. He feels an odd swell of emotion and briefly, he's almost sure that none of this is going to end well, that he shouldn't have these feelings, whatever they were and that none of this will end well. For this moment, he needs to believe things are alright, and he wraps his arms around Loki, not the enemy, not a prisoner...  
  
“I will.” Loki kisses the corner of Tony's mouth and slides back beside him and nestles his head in the crook of Tony's shoulder. They'll pretend everything is alright. Tony closes his eyes and wraps his arm around Loki. They'll pretend nothing is wrong. Even if only for tonight.  
  
The world turns black as he falls into a deep, dreamless sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Since the next chapter is the last one, I want to take my time to get it just right. It'll probably be up late next week


	9. There is no God of This World (Only the Father of Lies)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stark Tower: a beacon in clean energy research and development, home to billionaire Tony Stark and his Iron Man

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> as always, thank you to my fabulous beta finarfiniel without whom I couldn't have done this :)

It takes two weeks, two long weeks to find any sort of tangible evidence that S.H.I.E.L.D. is still under any sort of operation. If they’re looking for the Avengers, they’re in covert stealth mode. General consensus has it they’re waiting for someone to make a mistake, to accidentally reveal themselves. Tony figures they’re looking in all the wrong places, but while this whole game of sit-and-wait is all kinds of fun, everyone’s growing restless, especially Loki.  
  
When conquering the world isn’t an option, he apparently falls back on mischief and trickery and to Tony’s great worry: matchmaking. Between hiding Nat’s boots in the most ridiculous places, and turning Clint’s clothes and gear bright purple, he’s developed the profound belief that Steve and Phil are star-crossed lovers in need of divine intervention. Sex usually distracts him, which Tony appreciates because sex with Loki is phenomenal; and somehow, they’ve managed to keep a balance between rutting like teenagers and getting actual work done. It might be because Loki is exceptionally careful around Bruce, and Bruce is in the labs as much as Tony these days.  
  
Labs being a loose term as there’s barely any equipment. Not that equipment would help with that damned mitten. It’s more elusive than the Tesseract and Loki’s glowstick combined. Sure, corporeal and very real but Tony’s gotten higher energy readings of AA batteries than he’s getting from the glove. They’re odd readings, constantly fluctuating, but never increasing, never spiking.  It’s been days they’ve been cooped up in the labs trying to get anything out of the glove or Loki for that matter.  
  
“Okay, you need to give us more than this.” Bruce runs his hand through his hair and moves across the room. Loki moves a few steps, always keeping something between him and Bruce just in case. It’s amusing for the most part but they’re still no closer to anything and Tony’s  getting tired of Loki giving evasive answers or distracting Tony with sex to avoid follow-up questions.  
  
“I have told you all I can.” Loki merely says and leans against the table.  
  
“Bullshit.” Tony wants to shake him. “You never lead with your most valuable information; you lie and deceive like other people breathe, and you look like you want to throw up whenever we come down here. So, I’m sorry kitten but I don’t buy the ‘you have nothing else to tell us’ routine.”  
  
Over the next moments, he can see Loki shut down: eyes narrowed, arms crossed, mouth pressed to a thin line. Tony can feel hostility radiating from him as he moves toward the door. Maybe it is an exercise in futility trying to get along with Loki, maybe he’s just waiting for something, anything, who the fuck knows. Tony’s frustrated and tired and he really wants a drink.  
  
“Look,” Bruce stands in front of Loki, “I don’t know what you’re afraid of, but if it’s being sent away after we’re done here, I’m sure there- “  
  
The laughter that interrupts Bruce isn’t menacing or mocking, but it sure isn’t genuine either. If Tony didn’t know better, he would think that it’s nervous, fearful.  
  
“I assure you, Dr. Banner, I am quite unconcerned with my future after this.” There’s a flash in Loki’s eyes. He’s afraid.  Nat was right in the Quinjet when she called him out on it. He’s scared, scared for his life. Bruce has to have seen it, too, because he’s backing off a bit.  
  
“All right,” Bruce nods. “Just trying to help, but I get it. You’ve got issues to sort through, just do us all a favour and sort through them before death and destruction are on our doorstep. I’m going to grab dinner and when I get back, someone is giving me answers.”  
  
Bruce gives them both a look and Tony isn't sure if he's serious or if he's thrown in a dose of Banner-brand humour. He lives with the guy, he should know by now. He frowns and looks at Loki, who is rather pale. Ah yes, he probably thinks if he doesn't give answers, The Other Guy will start asking questions. Maybe he should tell him that Bruce doesn't work that way, that Bruce doesn't believe in forcing things out of people. Before Tony can decide that he should let Loki stew for a few more moments, Loki  screams with rage and Tony backs away just quick enough to avoid the workbench Loki decides flip over like it doesn't weigh nearly 300lbs and is bolted to the floor. Oh yeah, god, super powers, former villain, and definitely the temper of an Odinson.  
  
“This looked more satisfying when my brother did it,” Loki all but growls.  
  
"I can get my suit if you want to let out your frustrations on something that can fight back," Tony offers nonchalantly, but he really, really hopes Loki declines. He's tired... of everything if he's honest with himself. A man can only be cooped up on a tropical island with nothing to do for so long before he drives himself mad. He's also running dangerously low on alcohol. He's been rationing and the constant beading of sweat on his back is starting to get annoying. He doesn't want to know what happens when he goes his first 24 hours without a drink, and at this rate and with his luck, it's bound to happen right when he's needed most.  
  
For a beat, it looks like Loki isn't going to wait for Tony to put on the suit. For a beat, there's true madness in his eyes and Tony braces himself. For a beat, the tension in the room becomes so thick, it is hard to breathe. Then, Loki surveys the damage he did, a look of disinterest back on his face. Tony hates that look more than the smug superiority the guy puts on regularly.    
  
"No," he finally says and looks up at Tony. "Bury it. Bury it deep and burn this place down."  
  
"Okay, hold on there for a minute." Tony picks up the glove before Loki can and holds it maybe a little protectively close to his chest. "Why? Just answer that, will you? Plain and simple: why do you want me to bury the glove and burn down my house?"  
  
"I am trying to protect you."  
  
Huh. Well that's new.  
  
"Okay, I am going to make a note to ask you questions about that statement later. Right now I need physical, empirical, measurable reasons." He runs a hand through his hair. "Please. This isn't a case of plausible deniability. We can't fight what we don't know."  
  
"My attack on Earth failed." Loki clenches his fist and there it is again, that ghost of fear in his eyes.  
  
"Maybe start with something I haven't actively had a hand in." Tony sits on the counter behind him. He wants to extend his hand to Loki, but he doesn't want to stop Loki, who is looking a lot like he's at the point where he has to talk, needs to talk. That point of breaking Tony knows so well.  
  
"The attack on Earth was but a first battle of a greater war, a war for the universe."  
  
"I get you were pissed at your brother and really the world, but that seems excessive even... for... you..." he trails off and looks at Loki who doesn't meet his eyes. "It wasn't your war. Your brother mumbling about someone else controlling you, he wasn't wrong."  
  
"None controlled me! I am a god!" Loki spits. "I was to repay a debt and if it meant to destroy what my brother so learned to love, then all the better!"  
  
That's a whole lot of information at once in merely two sentences, but fortunately, Tony's brain is faster than most.  
  
"And when we stopped you, your repayment became null and void and now you have the Space Mafia coming to try and break your legs until they get what you owe."  
  
"Oh but I will pray that is all they do." He laughs, hollow, flat. "No, Anthony, an unpaid debt to Thanos is not easily erased, not even death would satisfy him. I would long for death even now if it meant an end to this."  
  
"All right." Tony hops off the counter and steps in front of Loki. "So, we don't let him take you or, I'm going out on a limb here, but he was after the Tesseract and not you, and of course, he'll also want the mitten, am I still on the right track?"  
  
Loki nods and there's a look of sheer and utter misery on his face unlike Tony's ever seen. What’s worse is he knows Loki is trying not to let his face betray him. He doesn't know the horrors Loki must have seen, hell, he doesn't even know the whole story here let alone what happened before Thor dropped him off on his doorstep.  
  
“Hey,” he pokes Loki in the chest, “look at me.”  
  
“Do not mistake me for a hysteric mai-“  
  
“I’m gonna stop you right there, kitten, because that whole misogyny thing? Not cool.” Tony takes a breath. “Look, shit’s about to go down and no one’s going to throw you to the wolves. Never going to be an option.”  
  
Loki just looks at him, searches Tony’s eyes for lies and falsehoods. When he can’t find any, he looks away.  
  
“I know you’ve had it rough and it’s really, really hard to trust anyone. Believe me, I know and I think that’s why you want to trust me. In the end, we’re not so different, and if you help us understand our enemy, we’ll protect you. I’ll protect you.”  
  
“You’ll protect me? You.” Loki laughs and steps away from him. “What am I? Your  precious pet? A diversion you store somewhere safe until you require it again? Please do not fool yourself as to what this is.”  
  
“And what’s that supposed to mean?” Tony feels cold in his stomach, sweat beading on his forehead. He’s not in any shape to argue with anyone right now.  
  
“Oh please, Mr. Stark, I do believe you know exactly what it means.” Loki narrows his eyes.  
  
“I think you should enlighten me.” He’s pissed. Mr. Stark? Really? What the fuck was he trying to accomplish?  
  
“If anyone is a diversion, the entertainment if you will, it is not I.” He scoffs. “I am a god, what else could you ever be to me?”  
  
Tony’s lungs don’t accommodate a breath as deep as he needs to take it. Not twelve hours ago they’d had amazing sex. Loki had fucking snuggled after, snuggled, buried his face against Tony’s neck and fucking slept like a baby for an hour.  
  
“You’re fucking kidding me. Seriously?” He somehow manages not to shout or sound mildly hysteric. He takes a breath, tries to will away his shaking hands and the urge to grab Loki, shake him, and continue screaming ‘what the fuck is wrong with you?’ until Loki taps out.  
  
“Do I look to be jesting?” Loki rolls his eyes and mutters ‘mortal’ under his breath. Straw. Camel. Back breaking. Tony grabs Loki by the shirt and pushes him hard into the wall.  
  
“Is this what you want? To be hated? To be left behind? Or have you been so twisted that you actually believe that you should be alone?” He lets go when his rage switches to something else entirely, something lodged in his chest that he can’t quite pinpoint. “And if that’s true, why did you stay? Why did you let them torture you?”  
  
“Oh you think it is as simple as that? I stayed because I care for you. I let them torture me as penance, is that what you want to hear? Will that sate whatever nagging feelings you have?” He sneers. “You think we are alike but no, you are like Thor more than you’ll ever be like me. You’ve never had to fight for redemption. Three days on this mortal world and he has redeemed himself for all his sins because some woman showed him a kindness? And you? Oh do not tell me, I know it was three months for you. Tell me, did they flay you? Did they stitch shut your mouth?”  
  
“Loki-” But he is ignored.  
  
“Did they feed you acid, so you felt your core rot away? One prison merely replaces another, Anthony, and for the rest of us absolution never comes. I did not let them torture me. I made them. I twisted their small, useless minds until they did as I deserved.”  
  
“Christ, Loki…” Tony reaches for his hand but he pulls away.  
  
“Three days of penance, three days and he was absolved and I judged and cast out. And no matter what I do, I will not know forgiveness. Whatever you think this to be, you are wrong. I am incapable of the kinship you desire.” Loki looks exhausted when he leans back against the wall.  “I will instruct Jarvis with all I know and leave. I am not safe to be around.”  
  
“I don’t want safe.” Tony grabs Loki by the wrist. “And you aren’t as incapable of change as you want everyone to think. Also, not going to abandon you, sorry.” He pulls Loki close. “If you really wanted to leave, you would have. So, I’ll assume you want to stay and I’ll assume it’s because you care.”  
  
“Don’t.” Loki tries to extract himself from Tony’s grip, but Tony just wraps an arm around Loki’s waist.  
  
“Nope,” he pulls Loki down and kisses him gently, “you already said you are trying to protect me. I heard it, no taking that back.”  
  
Instead of a reply, Loki wraps his arms around Tony’s waist. He must feel the damp sweat creeping through the fabric of Tony’s shirt, but he doesn’t say anything.  Tony doesn't want to let him go. He can't. He can feel another abyss opening beneath them and he can't face this shit alone any more. Maybe it's maudlin and maybe he's a fucking sappy idiot when he thinks that Loki's got any sort of feelings invested in this. But he's not walking away. He stays. Tony should know it's guilt, penance, but he doesn't fucking want it to be. He wants, he needs this to mean something. It's barely a thread, but he's going to hold on to it and if he fucking drowns with this god damned ship. He's not going to let go. He can't. He won't make it if he does.  
  
The kiss is fierce and desperate like Loki's clinging to the very same thread. There's nothing tender about the way Tony runs his hand through Loki's hair and tugs him closer because he needs to fucking feel something. Anything. And Loki gives like he knows, like he knows exactly what Tony needs when he pushes him against the counter. He needs him, needs him so bad right now and oh god yes, Loki doesn't even pause to take off their shirts when he shoves his hand into Tony's pants, barely breaks the kiss to tug down Tony's zipper and roughly pushes him onto the counter.  
  
He can feel Loki's fingers dig into his hips, pants dangling from one of his ankles, he can't be bothered to kick if off further because Loki pulls him to the edge of the counter and rolls his hips and shit- Tony feels like he'll lose it right then and there.  
  
Pain in his shoulder brings him back from the edge and Loki smiles, no doubt at the imprint he's left on Tony's shoulder. Before he can so much as protest, Loki rolls his hips again and grins down at him. He's not the only one who can play rough and Tony's not above hair pulling, yanks on Loki's hair, and fuck if that moan doesn't go straight to his dick, which he grinds against Loki's pants; the friction hits him just right and oh fuck yes he doesn't even care if he's rutting himself desperately against Loki's hip. Only he does when Loki shifts and the perfect friction is replaced with the perfect throbbing heat of Loki's cock. He moans, probably loud enough for the whole island to hear but he doesn't care because Loki wraps his impossibly long fingers around both their dicks and squeezes.  
  
For a moment, they are perfectly still. Loki looks down at Tony, who is only upright because his fists are gripping Loki's shirt. Tony looks back into those ridiculously green eyes, smiles and cants his hips to spur him on. And Loki doesn't need more to smile and move his hand, eyes locked on Tony watching his every twitch, his every breath and the sudden scrutiny, the sudden change in pace burns along Tony's spine. The way Loki drags his fingers, swipes his thumb, the slick heat, the way he's still watching, breath hitching when Tony's hand joins his and suddenly they're running to the edge and Tony sees nothing but white and the green of Loki's eyes when he falls with a gasp, muscles tense, shuddering with release the same moment Loki moans his name and comes.  
  
Their breath is all Tony can hear for a long time. His fingers are sore when he unfurls them from Loki’s shirt, but instead of falling back against the counter, he’s held steady until he thinks he can find the strength to sit up on his own. And when he does, he leans forward against Loki, too tired to read into the arms wrapped around him, or the gentle kiss with which Loki captures his lips. The tenderness in such stark  contrast to how the whole thing had started.  
  
"You do care, kitten." He smirks against Loki's shoulder.  
  
"Tell anyone, I'll disembowel you and string you up by your own entrails."  
  
"Always the romantic." He kisses Loki's neck, nips the skin and really doesn't want to pull away and get back to work.  
  
Instead, he jumps off the counter, tears his definitely stained shirt off, tosses it in a corner, and grabs the nearest toolbox eternally grateful he's wearing a singlet** underneath because what had been Thor's booming voice upstairs just moments before is now Thor standing in the doorway shouting: "Brother!" much louder than he needs to seeing as Loki is standing right there (looking only mildly like he’s just debauched someone).  
  
“And Tony Stark! It is good to see you!” The bear-hug Thor gives probably cracks at least two of Tony’s ribs, but he lets up quickly in favour of capturing Loki, who had quietly been trying to escape to the door, in an even tighter embrace. “Loki!”  
  
Considering their relationship, Tony expects Loki to either physically fight his way out of the embrace or give Thor snark until he’s released. He finds himself taken aback when Loki, even for only the briefest moment, leans into his brother’s embrace and closes his eyes. Thor whispers something into his ear that Tony can’t make out but Loki looks relieved and pulls away.  
  
“That is quite enough.” Loki pushes his brother, but with a smile, and that’s just weird. Thor drapes his arm heavy around Loki’s shoulder. A gesture probably meant to conceal the apple he slips into Loki’s hand, but Tony notices the small movement, how Loki slides it into the sleeve of his tunic. Before he can say anything, Thor claps him on the back and pulls him toward the door.  
  
“Come,” Thor smiles, “I have brought a fine boar! We shall have a feast before we decimate our enemies!”  
  
A boar? Sometimes Tony wonders whether the guy is for real or if he’s been playing one continuous joke on all of them. Not that he puts it past him. They might not be related by blood but they sure as hell were brothers, which is especially clear when they walk up the stairs. Their mannerisms, even though Thor strides with the confidence of someone who just slayed a dragon and fucked his way through a half dozen men and women (both probably true), while Loki has a more sinuous confidence, almost a saunter.  He still wants to know what the hell that apple was all about. ‘Hey brother, good to see you, here have an apple. However, I will give it to you in the most subversive manner possible because hey those apples are nearly contraband these days.’ Yeah, probably not.  
  
Then, the smell of roasted boar permeates all of Tony’s senses and he swears he can feel it in his bones, it smells that good. Food’s been running low and you can only eat so many bananas (which he and Nat had found patrolling the island one day) before you want to murder someone. Except Clint, Clint apparently can eat all the bananas forever. All the bananas.  No matter that right now, because, ah fuck, everyone’s sitting around the table and Loki’s three steps away from Thor whereas they had definitely shared personal space on their way from the labs. Interesting.  
  
In the middle of the table is a giant roasted… that’s not a boar, is all Tony can think. It’s some spiny wildebeest, which vaguely could resemble a boar if one were standing far away and squinting. Up close, not so much. He curses his stomach for still growling.  
  
“So hey, we’re all gathered here one big happy family but that,” he points at the boar, “I’d rather share  Clint’s ridiculous banana stash.” Offense is the best defense.  
  
“Hey, just because I like bananas-“Clint protests but Bruce interrupts.  
  
“Come on, Tony,” he looks at the chair across from him, “drop the genius-loner act and sit down. Y’know, Ohana, just go with it.”  
  
“Excuse you?”  
  
“Ohana means family, asshole.” Natasha looks up, knife and fork in hand. “Now sit down so we can eat.” The look in her eyes allows for no variance, not even a speck of leeway. Sit or she’s going to make you, Stark. So, he sits across from Bruce beside a rather exasperated looking Steve leaving only Loki standing, but only for a very brief moment when Nat repeats “Sit!” with an impatient edge. Though if someone were going to take down Loki, Tony really wants to watch her do it, because she is gorgeously fierce.  
  
They don’t sit in complete silence, but it’s awkward at first, like some sort of bizarre Thanksgiving gathering where all your strange family comes out of the cracks in the floor. Tony’s seen Thor eat. He’s seen Loki eat. And yes, the two of them put together even has Natasha pause and stare for a moment before moving her plate further away from them lest it get sucked into that vortex.  
  
“All right,” Steve starts and Loki glances up, wipes his mouth with a napkin and elbows Thor. “Thor’s return no doubt has come up on S.H.I.E.L.D.’s radar and I would be surprised if they aren’t already on their way here.”  
  
“Then we must meet them head on in battle.” Thor puts down the boar’s leg bone he’d been gnawing on. “They will not think us ready and we shall take them by surprise.”  
  
“How would they think you not ready when you have him?” Loki points at Bruce and Tony could swear his eye twitches a bit. Thor laughs and slaps Loki’s back.  
  
“Right you are.”  
  
“Fighting off an attack won’t be your biggest problem.” Maria looks at them, possibly a little annoyed. Tony doesn’t quite blame her. They’re a bit of a rowdy bunch. “They’ll engage us in battle, accept the casualties, but in the heat of it all, someone will slip through and escape with the artefact. While they are compromised, they are still agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. and they are dangerous.”  
  
“She’s right.” Phil concurs from the head of the table. “Brute force isn’t going to win this one, sorry big guy.”  
  
“We use their plan to our advantage.” Bruce leans back. “While we keep them busy, one of us escapes with the gauntlet and hides it.”  
  
Tony looks at Loki. It’s the logical, maybe even the only, choice. Loki can travel farther and faster than any of them in the blink of an eye. Bruce seems to think the same and also looks at Loki. It takes two beats for Loki to realize.  
  
“Oh,” he sits up, “you are mistaking me for part of your little gathering of heroes here. I am nothing but a humble prisoner of war.”  
  
“Right,” Tony rolls his eyes, “because you’re so defenseless, kitten.” Loki shoots him an angry look. Oh yeah, no nicknames in public, especially not in front of the other Avengers… oops. “Point is: we need your help. We distract, try to uncompromised S.H.I.E.L.D., and your job is to hide the gauntlet somewhere safe until we can figure some- oh don’t look at me like that, Cap, one of us will go with him.”  
  
“Your trust in me is overwhelming.”  
  
“Hush,” Tony can feel the cold sweat pool in his lower back and bead on his forehead. “You haven’t even agreed to anything yet. So while you’re making up your mind, I’ll go find something to wash… that…,” he points at the ‘boar’, “down with.” He gets up and there’s a twist in his guts that nearly takes his breath. He doesn’t flee the table for the safety of the kitchen, really he doesn’t.  
  
The swig he takes from the nearly empty bottle of cheap whiskey takes off the edge. He downs the rest. They’re about to fight and he needs to function and when this is all over maybe he’ll take a nice month-long vacation at The Meadows or Silver Hill.  
  
“My friend you are not well.” Thor is leaning against the counter near the door.  
  
“Observant as always,” he puts the empty bottle on the counter.  
  
“If you ask, my brother can help you. He is well-versed in healing skills. He can ease your suffering through this transition.”  
  
“Look, I get you’re trying to help,” he waves vaguely, “but there was barely enough alcohol to allow me to function let alone to deal with this.”  
  
“You have lain with my brother.” Thor just looks at Tony whose heart simultaneously drops into his gut and tries to leap out of his throat.  
  
  
“What?”  
  
“You have lain with my brother, I can smell it on you.”  
  
“Y-you can?” Tony’s not sure he’s wanted Thor to ever find out about them. They haven’t defined anything, and Tony doesn’t know if they ever will and Asgard seems to lay a lot of stake in ceremony.  
  
“No,” Thor grins, “but your face tells me all I need to know.” He pats a stunned Tony on the back and returns to the dining area. Son of a bitch. Tony has to take a few deep breaths and leans against the counter. He needs a few minutes to digest all of this.  
  
For a while he just stares into space, allows his mind to wander. Maybe he should ask Loki for help. Just to take off the edge and when he gets home, he'll work on the rest himself. He wants to get his life back in order, and thinking about it, he finds himself wanting Loki to be part of that life in whatever shape or form they can work out. He takes a deep breath and follows Thor back to the dinner table.  
  
"Hey did Princess make up his.... mind...," he trails off.  Loki is sitting sprawled out at the head of the table, staff in hand, enveloped in full armour with that damned helmet and a fucking sneering grin on his face. Around the table, the others are laying face first as though they've decided to take a nap. "What's going on?"  
  
"What do you think, Mr. Stark?" Behind Loki, a figure appears in a suit and tie, all the markings of a S.H.I.E.L.D. agent barring the second set of thumbs and mouth like a broken Zagato grill.  
  
"Didn’’t know you were bringing friends for dinner.” Tony sets his jaw and tenses, waiting for an attack which never comes. “You should have told me, we would have put out an extra plate. I assume he’s the one we can thank for S.H.I.E.L.D. hunting us down? How’d you do it? Torture? Mind control? Because, not to be rude, but I don’t think S.H.I.E.L.D.’s finest would blindly follow a face like yours.”  
  
"Oh mortal child," the voice is less spoken as it reverberates inside Tony’s head, "I am one of many faces. And once they listened the first time, they were bound to listen again and again and now, they are all under His control."  
  
"So what," Tony balls his fists with rage, "you spare Loki torture and death in exchange for the designer mitten?"  
  
“I do hold life in the highest regards, Mr. Stark." Loki smiles. "Well, my own life."  
  
Tony looks at him, trying to ignore the pain he feels in his ribcage. Betrayal. His hands twitch. What Tony really wants right now is to activate his armour and wrap these hands around Loki's neck until he turns.  
  
"Be a darling and fetch me the gauntlet, will you?" Loki smiles.  
  
"I really believed you'd changed." Tony says as they walk to the lab. The blade end of the staff pointed at his kidneys.  
  
The gauntlet is still on one of the work benches, dull and with little indication that it is more than merely an oversized metallic work glove. However, when Loki enters with the staff, Tony can make out a faint glow on the gauntlet and on the gem of the staff now pointed at his front.  
  
"It senses His power." The four-thumbed creature-person extends its arms. Loki glances at Tony, and there is something in his eyes and then, suddenly Tony understands.  
  
"No," he says and pulls the staff away from Tony, "it senses mine."  
  
A ball of fire, bolt of lightning, ball of energy, or something Tony can’t find the words to describe transfers from the glove to the gem in Loki's staff and as it does, Loki  swings it with a cry, the blade slicing through the flesh, tendon, and bone of the man-creature's neck and cleanly severs its head.  
  
"Shit," Tony staggers backward to escape the squirting blood. He looks at Loki who gives him a sad smile. "You needed the gauntlet's power to kill him." Loki nods.  
  
“His mind was powerful.” The armour disappears and Loki stands in front of Tony in silken trousers and a green tunic.  “I apologize, but he would have known if you were not convinced.”  
  
“You truly are the god of lies and trickery.” There’s relief and a minor sense of dread for their future. He steps closer to Loki who runs his knuckles over Tony’s cheek with a sad smile.  
  
“I am.”  
  
“What about the others?”  
  
“Asleep.” Loki slowly raises his staff.  
  
“What is this? Another inevitable betrayal?” Tony chuckles.  
  
“Yes.”  
  
“I,” Tony leans to kiss Loki, “don’t believe you.”  
  
“Tony,” Loki kisses him gently, tender, soft, and entirely unlike Loki’s ever before kissed him. “You are not safe around me.”  
  
“Told you already,” Tony sneaks an arm around Loki’s waist. “Don’t wanna be safe.”  
  
“They are asleep because their brains are recalibrating and adapting.”  
  
“To what?” Tony pulls back a little.  
  
“To the missing memories I took from them.” Loki swallows and closes his eyes and raises his staff once more.  
  
“What are you doing?” Tony takes a step back as his mind works through the given parameters of what is about to unfold. He already knows, but he doesn’t want it to be true, not after everything they’ve been through, not after Loki’s just shown whose side he is on.  
  
“As long as you remember, you are not safe.” He grinds his jaw and Tony can make out tears in the corners of his eyes.  
  
“No, please,” he whispers and takes another step back. “Don’t.”  
  
“I have to.”  
  
“You don’t! You don’t have to! What we have is good. It may not be perfect but it’s good for us!” Tony doesn’t want to feel his chest constrict as it does. He’s dizzy and his mind is racing so fast he can’t think straight. He wants to get away, wants to get the suit and fight for his memories. And he wants to embrace Loki, pull him close and tell him  how much he cares in the hopes that it is enough to change his mind.  
  
Loki crosses the distance between them and wraps an arm tight around Tony’s waist and holds him close. Gently, he leans his forehead against Tony’s and lets out a soft sigh.  
  
“I do not wish to do this.” Loki’s voice breaks as he speaks. “But if I do not, I fear the things they will do to you.”  
  
He leans to kiss Tony, and Tony wants to push him away, try to evade the kiss, but he can’t and allows Loki to capture his lips in another gentle kiss. He can feel the blade of the staff against his stomach and Loki’s mind present in his. Slowly, the images before him begin to fade away. Fatigue lies heavily on Tony’s mind now as he can’t help but watch the memories disappear before his mind’s eye.  
  
Loki’s arm holds him steady, pulls him closer. Tony’s eyes are heavy and he wants to fight the fatigue but they close slowly on their own accord.  
  
And just as the world begins to fade away, Tony can feel Loki’s cheek wet against his. His breath caresses Tony’s ear as he whispers three small words and the world disappears into darkness.

                                                                                                                                          fin.  
                                                                             


 


	10. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _One Year Later..._

“Good morning, Mr. Stark,” Jarvis’ voice cuts through the perfectly good sleep Tony’s been having. “It is seven o’clock in the morning and a balmy 17 degrees Celsius here in New York City. The foreca-“  
  
“Five more minutes, Jarvis.” Tony turns around, snuggles into the pillow and smiles when the long-legged redhead from... Yale? Brown? Maybe it was MIT... disappears under the covers and swallows him whole. “Make- make that fifteen, Jar- oh god yes like that, baby.”  
  
Today is going to be a fantastic day.  
  
**  
  
Thor sits quietly on the rooftop of Stark Tower reading a letter addressed to him, signed in his brother’s hand: an apology and a promise that he was never to return to Midgard. The words are finite, final, definitive to sever all ties of kinship. But that is all they are: words on a piece of paper. They mean nothing compared to what’s in his heart.  
  
He will never stop looking.  
  
**  
  
In the morning, Phil finds an envelope on his desk, thick with a bit of weight to it, yellowed, and a little crumpled. Carefully, he slides the letter opener through the paper and slides the contents onto the table. The note only reads He will sign these. – a friend  
He suppressed a gasp and smiles to himself and spends the next hour admiring the perfectly mint condition (no foxing) Captain America trading card set (with protectors) now in his possession.  
  
**  
  
“Venti non-fat soy caramel latte, half syrup, no whip for Lucy?” A barista at the Starbucks on 57th Street announces to the crowd. A young woman steps forward, black hair in a tight bun, sunglasses obscuring her eyes.  
  
“Thank you.” She says and picks up her drink.  
  
“I like your shirt.” The barista points at the Starkettes Dance Studio logo. “Do you dance for them?”  
  
“Yes,” Lucy says with a smile, “as a matter of fact, I do.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't even know what to say. I've been writing this since the summer and it kind of turned into my baby and I am so happy all of you enjoyed this journey with me. Fortunately, it isn't over yet! This universe has two more parts to tell us, yay! :D Keep an eye out for "In the Wasteland of Our Lies" (I know, it sounds so chipper doesn't it? Hilariously, it will be more light hearted than this one... mostly... kind of... but still loads of angst lol), which should start going up in the beginning of January.
> 
> Thank you so much, everyone. You made this part of the journey wonderful <3


End file.
